


Harry Potter and the Halfa of Amity

by RosYourBoat



Category: Danny Phantom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 01:10:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4646709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosYourBoat/pseuds/RosYourBoat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Fenton's are going on vacation! To London, even, which has probably has some very exciting ghost activity, Jack assures them. However, instead of ghosts, they stumble upon a group of people dressed in black cloaks, and Danny is forced to expose his secret to his family in order to protect them--inadvertently exposing his secret to some very interested Death Eaters as well. With the arrival of a man with a fake eye and a peg leg claiming to have been sent to bring him to a safe place, Danny is in for a wild ride. </p><p>This fic is unfinished, and will remain so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harry Potter and the Halfa of Amity

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my recent excavation and expunction of all of my old fics from my hard drive to an online form, where they can be held as an indelible and inescapable memento of my past obsessions. These fics are all unbeta'd and heretofore unseen by anyone but me. I hope someone else feels some of the enjoyment I received from writing them.
> 
> "Harry Potter and the Halfa of Amity" was written in March of 2008. It is unfinished, and will remain so.

"Oh, look, Danny! It's Big Ben! I heard it's haunted!"

Danny groaned at his dad's comment. Jack Fenton was absolutely crazy about ghosts—or, more particularly—hunting them. That's why Danny sometimes found it difficult to be his father's son. Jack gave the impression of being Amity Park's most idiotic and amiable citizen. While this was not necessarily a bad thing, his idiocy did not extend to his design specs and most of his ghost-hunting inventions actually worked, provided there was a ghost within range.

In Danny's case, that was a very, _very_ bad thing. Neither of his parents had caught on yet, but he wasn't entirely human. Almost all of his parents' inventions had a tendency to go off when Danny was around. Of course, Jack and Maddie Fenton both believed (with good reason) that it was physically impossible to be both alive and dead at the same time. Ghosts are, by definition, dead. People, likewise by definition, are alive.

One cannot be both.

Maddie even addressed the issue of 'undead', such as vampires and zombies, but Haiti's zombie legends were based on several different drugs, one of which simulated death and another of which repressed 'free will'. Therefore, they weren't ever dead to begin with. As for vampires... Danny stopped trying to remember once it got into detailed medical history. Danny thought over his mom's explanations for various 'horror story monsters' and privately wondered how two people who hunted _ghosts_ for a living could not believe in undead.

Then again, he wondered how they could not notice that their son was caught somewhere between dead and alive.

He shook off the random thoughts and forced his attention back to his father, "Dad, it's a _clock tower._ A cool, old, famous clock tower, but still a clock tower. You can't go hunting ghosts in there." Danny yawned, still a little tired from the time-change. "Besides, you'd probably have more luck in one of the old church graveyards, anyway."

Blue eyes widened in horror when the boy realized what he'd said. _Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ he thought, whacking himself in the forehead. He could bet that now Jack would want to go stake out some walled-in city graveyard just to see if a ghost would show up.

_xxxx_

True to form, Jack had Danny, Jazz, and Maddie in a small, fenced-in graveyard outside the city that night, waiting for ghosts. Danny was not impressed by the use of his vacation-time, but was better off than his sister. Jazz, while she had 'helped' Danny a few times, was not accustomed to stake-outs or long periods of time without sleep.

Maddie was humoring her husband and pulled out the Fenton Finder, which, as she was facing her son when she turned it on, announced: "You would have to be some kind of moron not to notice the ghost directly ahead."

She looked up, saw Danny, and sighed. The Finder was _still_ keyed in to her son for some reason with no sign of any actual ghosts. Maddie found herself wondering if the way the ghost hunting gadgets went off near Danny had something to do with the accident with the Portal two years before. Maybe he had picked up some kind of residual ectoplasm...? Her thoughts were rudely interrupted by angry shouting--the man who maintained the graveyard had found someone in it that didn't belong.

"'Ey! W'at're ye doin' 'ere, ye vagrants!?"

_xxxx_

Old Ruben, as the children affectionately called him, was generally considered a kind and easygoing man. The only exception to that was anyone _daring_ to trespass in the cemetery after hours. He'd been sitting by the fire in his little house when he noticed the lights bobbing around in the older section of the cemetery. The area's children no longer intruded that far into the hallowed ground--kind old Ruben was _scary_ when crossed--and he was immediately angered by the notion that someone could be desecrating the resting places of those who no longer had family left to mourn them.

He put on his coat and boots and stalked out into the night, not bothering with a torch or lantern. He felt the faint beginnings of fear when he saw the shapes standing in a circle, disregarding all graves and talking in low voices. All of them were wearing black robes with masks.

The only thing Ruben thought was that this was some kind of occult meeting, one which he might be better off ignoring. The lights they carried varied slightly in color, bobbing at the end of sticks in their hands, certainly not something you could buy at most stores. But he had been entrusted with the safety of the cemetery, and steeled himself to act. He burst out of the bushes, yelling, hoping to frighten them off. If it was just a bunch of teenagers in a cult, it might have worked.

“'Ey! W'at're ye doin' 'ere, ye vagrants!?"

Almost as one, the circle turned to face him, sticks pointing at him like weapons. One of the robed people spoke, and a green light flashed from the end of his stick.

That green light was the last thing a mortal Ruben ever saw.

_xxxx_

Jazz immediately wanted to leave when the shout was heard--apparently visitors weren't welcome after hours--and Danny was inclined to agree. He hadn't kept his secret as long as he had just to blow it in some graveyard in Great Britain when one of his Dad's inventions auto-targeted him. A flash of green light caught the Fenton family's attention and they noted that it looked a lot like the green of Danny Phantom's ecto-blasts.

Jack immediately wanted to go up there and find the ghost and Maddie wasn't far behind. Danny and Jazz exchanged glances and followed. Danny, being half ghost, could see much better than any of the other members of his family in the dark. He spotted the robed figures and the body long before his parents did and got an instant 'bad feeling' about the entire situation.

He darted forward and deliberately tripped himself, falling and rolling strait into his father's legs, sending the huge man sprawling just as another jet of the green light passed through where Jack's chest had been. Danny phased out from beneath his dad--there was no time for subtleties--and shouted, "Mom! Dad! Run!"

Maddie didn't question--these weren't ghosts, whatever they were, and they _were_ dangerous. She hauled Jack back to his feet and bolted, attempting to herd her children in front of her. Jazz was perfectly willing to lead the retreat, but Maddie lost sight of Danny and couldn't spot him.

There was another flare of green light to the rear, this one not proceeded by a shout, and there was a pained yell from the behind. Maddie shoved Jazz and Jack in front of her, intending to go back for Danny, but there was a popping sound and suddenly one of the robed figures was blocking the way back to their rental.

"Danny! Front!" Jazz screamed, startling both her parents.

"On it!"

Green light shot over Maddie's shouldehnnnnnr and hit the figure in the chest, destroying the odd stick-like weapon it held and throwing it back. Maddie spun, thinking that more of the people/things were behind them, but only saw Danny, a faint glow dying from somewhere near his hand.

"Danny?" she asked.

"Later, Mom--Jazz! Get Mom and Dad back to the car; I'll hold them off!"

"Daniel Fenton!" Maddie half-shouted, "you'll do no such thing! You're no match for them!"

Danny wasn't in the mood to debate, and he got a strange almost-itch on the edge of his senses, like but not like his ghost sense going off. Suddenly the Fentons were surrounded by black-robed figures with raised 'sticks'. Several of the figures shouted, multi-colored blasts of light issuing from their weapons, and Danny spun, focusing hard.

He slammed up his ecto-shield, as strong as he could manage in human form, and the blasts rebounded at odd angles, some hitting the robed figures. One crackling red beam even refracted all the way around to hit one of those on the other side.

"What the _hell?_ " one of the robes--now proven to be human with British accent--yelped. Jack and Maddie were equally confused.

"Danny?" Maddie said hesitantly.

"Oh, crap," he gasped, surprised at how much strength it took to maintain the shield from multi-directional attacks. It was hard enough just to _make_ a dome shield. "I can't hold it like this!"

"Danny?" Jazz said warily, "Uh, probably not a good time to point this out, but... we're kind of surrounded."

"I noticed that, Jazz! I'm gonna blast a way clear and cover our backs--just concentrate on getting back to the car! Going Ghost!" He turned as a circle of blue-white light formed at his waist and blazed briefly over his form, transforming him into his alter-ego, Danny Phantom. His casual clothes were replaced by a skin-tight black hazmat with white gloves and his coloring inverted; his pitch black hair becoming snow white, his skin very pale, and his eyes a glowing green. Without pause, he threw himself to the side, throwing a half-dozen ecto-blasts past his family towards the waiting circle and then dropping the shield on that side.

"Go!" He shouted.

Jazz latched on to her parents' arms and dragged for all she was worth, pulling them both into stumbling runs. They could see fairly well with the glow from Danny's ghost form, not to mention the blasts of green light.

" _Reducto!_ " One of the robed figures cried from behind, and Danny jumped in to take the blow just as his mother looked back. He was slammed up against a gravestone, which shattered, and a ring of light appeared around his waist in response to the unexpectedly violent force. It split and ran up and down his body, leaving him human once more and battered against the rubble.

The robed people—she was sure they were people now—were now focused solely on Danny, ignoring the others as insignificant, and several jets of light shot at her boy. Terror as she had never known rose in her throat, forced out of her body in a shriek.

" _Danny!_ "

But none of them hit. Her son abruptly vanished from sight and the bolts of light reduced the tombstone he had been laying on to rubble. The robed people were looking around, confused, when several balls of glowing energy erupted from thin air, smashing their weapons and throwing them back. Then Danny was suddenly there, urging his family forward, holding on to all three and making them invisible. His parents stared down at their invisible limbs in amazement, even Jack’s brain quickly making the connections. How was it possible…?

They were halfway back to the car when Danny stumbled with a quiet grunt. Sweat ran into his eyes at the effort he was expending to keep all of them invisible while in his human form.

"I can't hold it anymore," he whispered. "Keep going and be as quiet as you can..."

A thrill of fear ran through all of them, but Maddie and Jazz nodded in understanding. They managed to make it to the car after they regained visibility; Jack getting into the driver's seat and Maddie and Jazz scrambling in almost as fast. Danny, tired as he was, was slower. Suddenly there was movement from behind, a sense of danger--

" _Avada Kedavra!_ "

Danny whirled to face the shout just in time for the blast of green light to hit him in the chest.

For a brief instant, nothing seemed to happen. Then his vision exploded in green-white lightning, the curse rippling through every fiber of his being, searching for the blazing core of his life-force, seeking to rip his soul from its moorings. And it encountered the chilling green gleam that snapped up to surround that which it sought, changing Danny into his ghost form as it did so.

The curse-energy faltered as Danny found himself falling backwards, intangible, through the car door. With the lack of heartbeat the curse dissipated, leaving behind numbing pain. Danny curled up on himself, pulling his legs through the door and turning solid (and human) again, barely aware of his sister's shouts or the abused rental car tearing down the empty country road.

Inside the car was pandemonium. Jazz was trying frantically to get her brother's attention while Jack and Maddie were demanding to know what was going on.

Finally Jazz cracked. "ENOUGH!" she screamed, stunning both her parents into silence. She turned her attention back to her little brother, whom her parents realized wasn’t responding to Jazz’s calls. "Danny? Please, Danny, talk to me. Are you OK?" Jazz reached out, touching him, cringing at the icy chill of his skin.

"H-he's not breathing--" her fingers frantically sought out the pulse-point on his throat.

It was still.

Jazz gave a gasping sob and pulled Danny's head into her lap. "Danny, Danny... no, please..."

_Danny was listening from a dark place with a distinct sense of detachment, unable to place the voice's owner. They seemed to be quite upset about something and he wondered vaguely if he should be worried._

Jack hit the brakes and pulled off to the side of the road at the sound of her broken voice, Maddie turning herself in her seat in order to catch a glimpse of her son. Jazz was bordering on hysterical, not her usual cool self. "I can't find a pulse, oh god, he's dead... he can't be dead. He can't be!"

_The detachment broke when he heard another voice say 'Jazz'._

_Jazz. Sister. The other two--Mom and Dad. Worried--did she say I'm_ dead? Danny wondered. _“Well, of course I am. Half-dead, anyway.”_

Then he realized that his heart wasn't beating normally, which was probably the cause of Jazz’s hysteria. A side-effect of being half ghost, he had discovered, was the ability to “stop” his heart without ill effects—or, really, just slowing it until it was nearly undetectable. His body did it automatically to conserve energy in times of extreme physical stress, even while he was human; though it did cause his human half to fall into a sort of coma.

With a mental groan, Danny forced his heartbeat and breathing back to normal, almost regretting the choice as his chest informed him of broken ribs and other damage. The relief that instantly flooded the car when he groaned out loud made it worth it, at least until Jazz moved to hug him.

He tried and failed to go intangible, managing a whisper past the sudden spike in pain. "Stop--hurts--ribs."

"Oh, Danny, I'm sorry," Jazz gasped, pulling back quickly, but Danny raised a trembling hand to wave it off. He looked around somewhat blearily, frowning when he saw that they weren’t moving.

"We shouldn't be stopped."

Jack reluctantly started up the car again, not sure what to say, as Maddie twisted around to look at her son. "Danny, honey... we're going to take you to the hospital." She said firmly, her amethyst eyes worried.

Danny shook his head violently. If there was one thing that would be disastrous to his identity it was hospitals. "No! N-no hospitals!" But this time it was Jazz who spoke up.

"Danny, your heart stopped and you weren't breathing!" She couldn't hide the slight tremor in her voice.

Danny slumped back. "That's normal... for me, anyway. Look, I'll explain everything on the way, but can we please just go back to the hotel? I'll be fine, we just need to get _away_ from this place."

"Yeah, sure you will. If by 'fine' you mean broken bones and a concussion." Jazz snorted in an uncharacteristic display of sarcasm.

"I don't _have_ a concussion!" Danny groaned, "And this is hardly the first time I've had a few cracked ribs, Jazz. I'll be _fine._ In the morning I'll be sore, but that's _all._ "

Jack and Maddie exchanged confused and guilty glances. He'd come home with _broken bones_ and they hadn't noticed?

"Danny--" his parents caught themselves speaking in unison.

"No hospitals," he insisted, his tone making it clear that he would resort to drastic measures if they didn’t listen to him. His parents caved.

"All right... but let us take a look at you before you go to sleep." Maddie said protectively. Danny closed his eyes and nodded.

“Deal.”

“Now I think you’d better explain yourself, young man.” Maddie continued firmly, turning her head once more to bend her infamous “I’m-a-mother-and-I-know-when-you’ve-done-something-incredibly-stupid-so-spill-it” look. Danny let out a sigh, wincing when his ribs reminded him of how much they disliked being broken.

“Okay, this is the short version: It all started that day when you couldn’t get the Ghost Portal working….”

_xxxx_

The last report from Severus Snape was somewhat worrying. American Muggles had interrupted the last Death Eater meeting and one of them--a teenage boy--apparently had _extremely_ powerful magical talents. He'd created a shield that deflected _all_ curses thrown its way.

Avery was dead from a _rebound_ on the Killing Curse.

Snape hadn't been able to see the entire thing, as he had apparated out to the Muggles' transportation vehicle during the confusion, but he'd seen the boy get hit by _Avada Kedavra_ and fall into the car, still blinking. If he hadn’t seen it himself, he would have refused to believe that another Potter-type situation had occurred.

It was... impossible. This boy _had_ to be found.

Before Voldemort found him first.

_xxxx_

“…So, I’ve been fighting any evil ghosts that come out of the Ghost Zone for the past two years, with Sam, Tucker, and Jazz’s help. My powers have mostly stabilized, but I think they’re still growing. I discovered a new power three weeks ago and mastered another one last week. So… yeah, that’s it.”

Danny shrugged, indicating that he was finished. He had, of course, left out most of what had happened in the past two years, including most of his major battles and any information about Vlad. He could just imagine what his parents would be like if they knew about Pariah Dark, or Dark Dan, or Skulker, or any of his more dangerous enemies. They wouldn’t let him out of their sight for months—that is, if they didn’t mind the fact that he was half-ghost in the first place.

As it was, Danny couldn’t really tell. They had returned to their cheap motel and the dingy room was silent in the wake of his explanation. Jazz, who knew most of it all already, was sitting next to him on one of the double beds and sympathetically rubbing his back. He felt grateful for her silent support as he apprehensively glanced at his parent’s grief-stricken expressions. They had been shocked silent or emotionless for most of the tale, and Danny couldn’t help the old fear that arose in him at their possible rejection.

Finally, it was his mother who spoke first. “W-why didn’t you tell us, Danny?” She asked querulously.

“At first, it was because I didn't want you to freak out," Danny explained, voice laced with exhaustion as he stared at the battered red motel carpet between his black sneakers. "Well, that, and I was kind of hoping it would go away. I didn’t really know how to deal with it myself."

He shrugged self-consciously, unwilling to admit his next fear but knowing that it needed to be said. "Then when you guys saw me—I mean my ghost side—I saw how much you hated me. You thought I was evil and you were always talking about capturing me and doing tests and dissection—” Danny stopped, letting his breathing calm as his ribs protested his distressed breathing. His parents looked stricken. “Look, I know it’s irrational, but I was kind of—scared of you. I still am." He added in a whisper that they couldn’t hear.

Maddie looked horrified; Jack was simply confused.

"Danny, we would _never_ \--"

“—Hurt me, I know,” Danny cut in smoothly. "I really do. But by the time I realized that, it just wasn't safe to tell you." Now both parents were baffled.

"But you just said..." Jack trailed off questioningly.

"Safe for you," Danny clarified. "I've got some pretty spiteful enemies. One of them tried to kill Jazz when he found out she knew. As long as you didn't know, you were more-or-less safe. At least from Plasmius."

"Danny," Maddie watched her son's face for any hint of what he might be thinking, "I _do_ wish you'd said something, but I can understand why you didn't. Except, why did you think we would be upset with you when it happened? You know we love you, right? No matter _what_ form you take."

Danny’s head shot up in surprise at that. His mother looked completely genuine and his father was nodding in agreement, both of them serious and frank for once. Danny couldn’t help the huge, disbelieving smile that spread over his face and the relief and love that swelled in his chest. They _loved_ him. Of course they loved him, he knew that, but he hadn’t expected that they would accept his ghost half so readily.

“R-really? You don’t mind that—that I’m only h-half-human?” Danny said dazedly. His parent’s faces crumpled and they ran to his side to gather him up in a tight hug.

“Oh, Danny, of _course_ we love you!” Maddie sobbed. “It’ll take some getting used to, but we would never reject you! It was all a horrible accident!” Danny gasped out in pain as his vision grayed and black spots danced before his eyes. Jazz quickly pried their parents off of their son, even Jack becoming instantly gentler when they realized they had hurt him.

“I—I’m fine.” Danny gasped, holding a hand to his side gently. “I heal really fast. Don’t worry.”

“Fast enough that you never learn your lesson,” Jazz grumbled, causing Danny to make a face at her. His parents smiled faintly at this.

“It would be fascinating to see how much your g-ghost half affects your human half,” Maddie said thoughtfully, stumbling only a little over the strange words. Considering how surreal the situation was, Danny thought they were handling everything very well. It wasn’t surprising, considering their profession/obsession.

“Hey Danny, you’re part ghost, right?” Jack said, suddenly excited. “That means you have ghost powers, right? You have to show me what you can do! And then we can build tons of gadgets together and blather on about ghosts to each other and—”

“Er, sure, dad, maybe later.” Danny said hastily, trying to cover his horror. Jazz stifled an evil grin. “First, we have to get back to Amity Park before those weird people find us again. I’ve never seen anyone who could do what they do—no one human anyway…” He trailed off and the room became silent once more as they all contemplated what had happened in the graveyard (or, in Jack’s case, contemplated the tin of English fudge in the fridge).

Suddenly, Danny’s sensitive hearing caught the sound of someone trying to approach their door stealthily. “Trying” being the operative word since the clear thump of wood against wood was hard to miss. Indicating to his family to remain silent, Danny’s eyes glowed dangerously as he faced the door.

_xxxx_

Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody was not, perhaps, the most sociable person to have sent to find this mysterious boy, but he _was_ one of the best. And whoever that American teen was, he _had_ to be found. Moody had, with the aid of Dumbledore, found the boy's location--a small, beat-up motel on the outskirts of London--and headed out immediately, warning Madame Pomfrey that she might have someone coming in soon.

As the paranoid Auror had told Dumbledore, even if the kid had _survived_ the killing curse, there was no telling what kind of damage he'd sustained. He arrived at the motel fully expecting to be met with confused and defensive family members--parents and an older sister--but when he finally opened the door he certainly was not expecting a black-haired kid with blazing green eyes and fists planted squarely in front of the door.

His right fist was pointed in Moody’s direction.

Normally, Moody wasn't one to scare easily, but the look in those glowing--not shining but honest-to-goodness, lit-from-within _glowing_ \--eyes unnerved him despite himself.

"Put your weapon down and tell me who you are and what you're doing here," the boy ordered calmly.

Moody stared in shock for a moment, but dropped his wand and stepped back when the green light intensified. It resembled the Killing Curse far too closely for him to bother testing the boy.

"I’m not here to hurt you.” He barely avoided adding 'boy'. No telling what might set the kid off. "The name's Moody. I was sent to find you before the Death Eaters could figure out you're still alive."

"'Death Eaters?'"

Moody grunted an affirmative, mildly amused at the kid's raised eyebrow. It looked like a watered-down version of a similar expression used frequently by a certain spy. "Black robes, masks, god-forsaken evil bastards..."

The look he received from all three of the older people said the language was not appreciated, though the youngest remained immovable.

"The ones from the graveyard." Not a question. "Why should I trust you?"

Moody felt a glimmer of honest liking for this kid. It wasn’t often that he met someone—no matter the age—that shared his… _caution_. "Good! Very good! Constant vigilance! Keeps you alive. Dumbledore sent me."

"Who's Dumbledore?"

Moody felt a very odd urge to slap his forehead. "Of course, you've never heard of the Wizarding World," he growled, disgusted with himself.

The green glow dimmed and the fist lowered slightly, a look of thoughtfulness on the kid’s face.

In fact, Danny _had_ heard of the Wizarding World--his evil not-going-to-be future self had destroyed it along with everything else, according to Clockwork. On one of the few days where there were no ghost attacks, he's gone to the Time Master's lair and asked about it.

"I remember now," Danny said finally, "I’ve heard something about you guys. Dumbledore is the Headmaster of… erm, Hogsmorts, or something. It's one of the top-ranking magic schools in the world. Old Grindelwald's pretty bitter about Dumbledore taking him down." Danny grimaced as he remembered his brief encounter with _that_ ghost as he passed its lair. Not that Grindelwald's ghost was particularly strong--quite the opposite. He ranked with the Box Ghost in power and with Skulker and Vlad combined in arrogance and annoyance properties.

Moody couldn't remember the last time he'd been dumbstruck. The boy--who supposedly only knew of the Muggle world--somehow knew about Dumbledore and it sounded like he knew Grindelwald, who was supposed to be dead. Moody was starting to become very bewildered and he didn’t like being bewildered.

Danny finally lowered his hand completely, extinguishing the ecto-blast and letting his eye color return to normal. "I'll give you a chance, but I need more information before I come with you. Clockwork!” He suddenly shouted, causing Moody to actually flinch in alarm (which only made him scowl more when he realized he had been caught off guard). “Clockwork, a little help?”

“ _Time out!_ ”

Moody couldn’t stop himself from gaping as everything suddenly froze and a swirling green portal appeared out of nowhere; an old man faintly resembling Dumbledore stepping out of it. Before the Auror’s disbelieving eyes, the old man’s form suddenly shifted into that of a black-haired man as smoothly as an Animagus transformation.

“Moody—that’s your name, isn’t it?—meet Clockwork; ghostly Master of Time and all-knowing mentor.” The boy said without missing a beat. “Clockwork—”

“Yes, yes, I know. Alastor ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody, top Auror of his class during the time of Grindelwald and a tenacious, paranoid coot to boot. Favorite color is lavender.” The ghost replied airily, waving his staff in an impatient manner. “Yes, you can trust him, Danny; he’s a good man. You will be able to see when he's going about things poorly, and he will listen to you; both him and Dumbledore. You can trust him, too. The old codger is a bit too clever for his own good, but he is a good man as well.”

Danny gave a relieved smile. "Thanks, Clockwork. But you usually wait until I ask...?"

"Ah yes, well, I would normally never answer your summons like a common lapdog, either, but time is of the essence. You must hurry—the Death Eaters will arrive in another two minutes and you must not be captured by them. I believe Mr. Moody will be able to help you there--?" Clockwork left the sentence trailing pointedly.

“Right. Dumbledore gave me a portkey that will take us directly to Hogwarts. All you and your family need to do is touch it and I will say the activation word that will trigger it.” Moody explained quickly. He hadn’t been a top Auror for being slow on the uptake, after all. The black-haired teen nodded in understanding, not even questioning the odd instructions. Moody’s respect for Danny raised a notch.

“Quickly, one last thing,” Clockwork said, clapping his hands. An amulet appeared around Danny’s neck. “Keep my amulet with you at all times in the Wizarding World. No one will be able to take it from you by force, but you can remove it yourself. I have a feeling you may need it."

Danny nodded, "Thanks."

The ghost’s form suddenly shifted into that of a child and an enigmatic smile touched his lips. He clapped his hands together. “Until we meet again, Danny Fenton. _Time In!_ ”

_xxxx_

The next thing poor Moody knew, time had resumed its flow and Danny was explaining everything as succinctly as possible to his very confused family. Moody wasn’t sure if he should trust what the old ghost had said about Death Eaters arriving any second, but he knew that it was a very distinct possibility, and—well, the boy _had_ introduced him as the Master of Time, hadn’t he? Besides, the kid obviously trusted the ghost and something told the grizzled Auror that the teen’s trust didn’t come easily.

“Moody, we’re ready.” The boy suddenly announced from where his family huddled around him, looking pale but determined at least. Obviously the boy’s bravery ran in the family. Moody stumped toward them, his magical eye spinning in all directions to see if any threat was nearby and causing the Muggle family to gasp in surprise and disgust. The coast was clear for now.

“Right, everyone grab a hold then.” He said gruffly, holding out a pair of opera glasses.

“Too late, we’ve got company!” The boy suddenly blurted, his hard blue eyes fixed behind Moody. Before he could turn, the door to the motel suddenly blasted inward and Moody felt his arm being grabbed roughly. Green light—he couldn’t tell whether it was from _Avada Kedavra_ or something else—filled his vision and abrupt silence pressed in on his ears. Suddenly the light vanished and a rush of displaced air swirled around them as they fell nearly a foot onto soft grass.

Moody was on his feet instantly, surprised to find himself alive and unharmed outside of the dingy motel the Muggles had been staying in. He turned around to see said Muggles in an undignified heap on the ground, looking around in bewilderment. The raven-haired teen had collapsed to his knees and was struggling to his feet, his breathing harsh and labored.

“Danny! You learned how to teleport already?” The red-haired young woman asked with a mixture of proud surprise and worry.

“Just last week.” The boy—Danny—grunted. “Questions later. Come on, we need to leave. _Now._ Moody?”

“Here.” The Auror growled, holding out the glasses once more for them to take hold. After another concerned glance at the exhausted teen, they obeyed. A sudden shout went up from the direction of the motel and a streak of ominous green light hurtled toward them, aiming straight for Moody. A breathless heartbeat later a slender form suddenly blocked his view of the curse for a split second. He heard the sound of the spell hitting a human target and the teenager stumbled, barely managing to reach out a hand to the pair of opera glasses before anyone else let go.

Without wasting another second—despite the fact that he knew the boy was dead—Moody grabbed the thin, cold wrist and said the activation word that yanked them away from the battle and to Hogwarts.

In the semi-comatose state he found himself in for the second time in the space of an hour, Danny listened as their group arrived in what he assumed to be Hogwarts, only to be assaulted by a woman who seemed to be the very definition of “mother hen”. He listened as Jazz forcefully protected his vulnerable body and prevented the woman—who Danny gathered was a doctor for wizards and witches—from poking at him. He even felt amusement as Jazz barked an order at Moody to move him to one of the nearby beds, explaining as she went that Danny was fine and only needed to rest before he woke.

After what seemed to be an eternity, the protective doctor left them alone and Moody also left, leaving his parents and Jazz alone next to his bed. It seemed that the adults were still trying to adjust to everything that had been thrown at them in the past few hours, including magic and the fact that their son was halfghost. Not to mention they'd been _hunting_ him and had hurt him--badly--at least once.

Jazz was trying to comfort them and calm them down, making Danny feel grateful for her calming personality and cool head. He made a mental note to thank her for it in the future and settled back into a state of healing oblivion.

_xxxx_

Danny woke to a mostly empty room. The only other occupants were empty beds. It looked like some sort of hospital room, barring the fact that the ceiling, walls, and floor were of some sort of gray stone rather than polished white linoleum. He sat up, looking around curiously, then sighed, running a hand through his perpetually-messy hair.

"Where am I?" he asked no one in particular.

"You is being in the hospital wing, in Hogwarts, sir," came a little voice from off to the side. Startled, Danny yelped and fell through the bed. The voice gave a horrified gasp.

"Winky is sorry, sir! Winky did not mean to--"

Danny rolled out from underneath the bed and looked at 'Winky'. 'Winky' was a small creature with brownish-green skin, pointy ears and large brown eyes.

"It's fine. I do that sometimes," Danny frowned slightly, lowering his voice to a mutter, "But not usually. I haven't fallen through my bed in _ages_..."

"You do, sir?"

Danny stared at Winky for a moment. "Your name is Winky, right?"

The creature nodded, wringing her hands in her short, dirty dress anxiously.

"Well, Winky, you don't have to call me 'sir'. My name's Danny."

"Winky is a good house elf, sir," Winky stated firmly, "Winky would never dream of speaking disrespectfully to a wizard."

Danny sighed and climbed back on top of the bed, "Well, as long as you don't call me 'Daniel'," he said after a moment.

"You do not like that name, sir?"

Danny shook his head, "The last person to call me 'Daniel' was kinda my archenemy."

Winky's huge eyes grew wider. "Oh…" she started, then stopped. Tears suddenly filled her eyes and she pulled on her large, bat-like ears. "Winky is a bad elf! Winky forgots!"

The poor thing looked so distraught that Danny started to get worried. "What is it, Winky?"

"Winky is supposed to tells Professor Dumbledore when you woke..."

Danny shrugged nervously. The poor creature looked like she was about to have a heart attack. "Well, I haven't been awake very long, Winky. I'm sure it would be all right if you went now."

Winky nodded tearfully and disappeared with a sharp crack. Danny let out a breath and leaned back against the headboard of the soft hospital bed. However, he had barely been alone for three minutes before an old man with long white hair and beard who reminded him rather forcefully of Clockwork came into the room. He wore the full-length robes of thick material that these wizards seemed to favor, except that his were colored in bright, eye-piercing oranges and purples.

Danny blinked. Then he shrugged, easily ignoring the old man’s eccentric tastes. He had seen far too many things to be fazed by a bad taste in clothes.

“Ah, hello there!” The man greeted pleasantly as if he had just happened to wander into the empty hospital ward and found him there. “It’s good to see you awake, young man. Would you care for a lemon drop?”

“Thanks, but no.” Danny answered politely without even a blink. “But I was wondering where my family is.”

The old man—who Danny just _knew_ had to be Dumbledore—smiled affably, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles. "Ah. They are in the Great Hall; partaking of a much-needed meal, I believe. It has been nearly three hours since you have arrived and they have only just recently left your side."

Danny nodded slightly, settling himself more comfortably against the headboard. Something told him Dumbledore intended to have a _long_ talk. The chair the man conjured out of thin air seemed to agree.

Dumbledore sat comfortably with a sigh. "Well, my boy, I believe I should properly introduce myself. I am Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Supreme Mugwump, and owner of a host of other titles I can’t quite recall at the moment.” He beamed at the teen, who couldn’t suppress a faint smile.

“I’m Danny Fenton, and I have a fair number of titles that I would prefer not to mention.” Dumbledore chuckled lightly, but his expression soon settled into one of seriousness.

“Now, I would like to ask you a few questions, dear boy, and I'd prefer if you answered them truthfully."

Danny just nodded. He had already expected this, considering everything Moody must have told the old man. He suspected that half-ghosts were just as uncommon in the Wizarding World as they were in the human—or, as they called it—the Muggle world.

“What were you doing in that graveyard last night?"

Danny made a sound somewhere between amusement and exasperation, rolling his eyes. "My Dad's obsessed with ghosts. He wanted to see if he could catch a British ghost to run some tests on."

A bushy white eyebrow raised above twinkling blue eyes that weren't very different in shade than Danny's own. "I see. I shall have to warn the castle ghosts..."

"Are any of them evil?" At the negative answer, Danny sighed. "Warn my mom while you're at it. Dad's obsessed, but he's kind of a klutz. Mom's really good--she's even nailed _me_ once or twice."

There was a flash of puzzlement at that, but Dumbledore obviously decided to hold off on that question. "Have you ever had contact with the Wizarding World before, Daniel?"

Danny bristled, his face suddenly becoming stony. "Don't call me 'Daniel'. It's Danny."

The poor wizard began to think that the more questions he asked, the more confused he became. And Dumbledore was not used to being confused. "Very well, Danny."

Danny relaxed, "Thanks. Sorry, but the only person who calls me Daniel is a real nutcase who wants to kill my dad, marry my mom, and make me his son. And one of his cronies is intent on hanging my pelt on his wall or at the foot of his bed—I don’t think he’s actually decided which place he likes better."

"Ah." He wasn't even going to ask. Yet.

"And, no, I haven't. Well, not in _this_ timeline, anyway."

"This timeline?"

Danny shuddered, grimacing, "Please don't ask. I don't like to think about it. I’ve heard a little bit about the Wizarding World, though."

"Of course," Dumbledore said kindly. In some ways, the more time he spent with this young man, the more he began to remind him of another secretive teen with pitch black hair. "Now, for the thing that has been weighing on the minds of all of those who have heard: do you have any idea how you first deflected, then survived the Killing Curse; not only once, but twice?"

Danny blinked, tilted his head, "The Killing Curse?"

"The incantation is _'Avada Kedavra'_ ," Dumbledore explained carefully. "It is characterized both by its distinctive green light and the fact that it is impossible to counter or survive. There is only one other known survivor, and he was saved only through his mother’s sacrifice for him. Hers was the most powerful counter-charm in the world. You, however, did not have the benefit of such a protection."

Danny frowned thoughtfully, "Is that what that was? It felt really... _strange_... when it hit me. It didn't _hurt_ , exactly, but..." He shook himself out of his thoughts. "Anyway, I've got a pretty good idea as to why it didn't work."

The professor straightened up, his piercing blue eyes sharpening behind thin glass. "You do? Why?"

Danny sighed, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. Telling his family had been bad enough--why on earth was he telling a total stranger? Oh. Right. Because Clockwork had said the man could be trusted and Danny, for some inexplicable reason, trusted Clockwork. He dropped his hand into his lap and sighed again while Dumbledore waited patiently, sucking on a lemon drop.

"Well, because I’m not exactly alive to begin with….”

_xxxx_

After Danny finished the shortened version of his tale (Clockwork said that he could trust the man, but that didn’t mean that he wanted to air all of his secrets to a stranger), Dumbledore left to think.

It made sense, of course, that the Killing Curse wouldn't affect the young… “halfa”, as he’d called himself. That particular magic simply can't kill anything that isn't alive to begin with. And Dumbledore didn't even _want_ to think about how it was possible to be both human and ghost at the same time. Alive and dead, in the same body. A ghost was _all_ dead and a human _all_ alive--there wasn’t supposed to be a halfway.

Although a now-dead Muggle scientist had once put forth the theory that if a cat was locked in a box and the air extracted from the box, there would be a brief moment in time during which the cat would be both alive and dead. If that Schrödinger’s Theory was true and Daniel had somehow been trapped in that state instead of continuing on to simple death, well. It still shouldn't be possible, as any living body shouldn't be able to handle that kind of strain for more than a heartbeat--thus the cat only being alive and dead for an instant. But somehow—

No, he had to stop thinking about this. It was giving him a headache. Switch to the other topic, now.

The ghosts that Daniel--Danny--was accustomed to dealing with were capable of doing massive damage in the physical world and interacting with it directly.

When Dumbledore had expressed surprise and described the Hogwarts ghosts, Danny had snorted and explained the power-level system. According to Danny—whom Dumbledore had to admit was probably more knowledgeable in this particular area than himself—it sounded as if the Hogwarts ghosts were rather weak in comparison to most ghosts; probably around Level 1.3 or so, except Peeves, who was maybe a 1.5.

If that was true... Dumbledore didn't ever want to meet up with so much as a level three.

_xxxx_

Danny sighed and flopped back against the bed, mildly glad that Dumbledore had left, but very hungry. He thought he heard something—perhaps a soft footstep against stone—and sat up.

"Winky?" he asked, thinking it might be the timid little creature. There came a sharp crack and she appeared.

"Yes, Master Danny, sir?"

He blinked, "Sorry," he blushed, realizing she'd come when called. "I heard something and I thought it might be you."

Winky looked slightly saddened, then perked up. "Is there anything Winky can gets for you, Master Danny?"

"Well, I _am_ kinda hungry...."

Winky gave a broad smile, which Danny secretly thought looked strange on the small, timid creature. "Winky will get sir something to eat! What would sir like?"

Danny gave a halfhearted chuckle. "At the moment anything that's real food."

Winky blinked her big brown eyes and vanished with an "Of course, sir!" and a sharp CRACK.

In less than two minutes, Winky was back with an armload of food--most of which Danny didn't recognize straight off. All of it was good, though. Happily licking off sticky fingers from an apple turnover, Danny smiled at the house elf.

"Thanks a lot, Winky. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Winky's eyes widened and she seemed at a loss for words. Suddenly she looked down, giving the impression of blushing under her green skin. "No, sir..."

Danny frowned slightly, but let it go. "Well, if there ever _is_ something you want, Winky, you can always come ask."

Winky looked up in surprise, then her cheeks darkened even more. "Sir is very kind, sir is... but Winky must be getting back to work, sir. Ask for Winky if you is needing anything, sir." She CRACKed out of the room, obviously too flustered to wait for a reply.

Danny sat on his bed, eating slowly and thinking about the odd house elf. Not that he knew what to expect from a house elf, as he'd never even heard of them before the green creature had mentioned her race. He kind of liked the little being.

xxxx

Danny was unhappily, if understandably, confined to the Hospital Wing for a few days of 'observation'. The woman doctor (or “medi-witch”) he had been entrusted to—Madame Pomfrey as he had learned once he had finally met her—was not allowed to run any tests or do any sort of research at all even though she had been informed of his half-ghost status. She had been supremely interested once she heard about his anomaly, but she frequently referred to him as one of her most difficult patients and treated him as such.

He wouldn’t allow her to either touch or draw blood from him, and neither did he take any of the potions she offered him. And indeed, once he had woken up the day after his arrival at Hogwarts, all of his injuries were healed and he didn’t need them. This didn’t mean that he didn’t suffer from the effects of direct hits from two Killing Curses, however.

As it turned out, much of his time was spent underneath the bed, although he did once wake up to find himself half-buried in the floor. Upon that occasion, he phased himself back out, grumbling, not noticing the fact that his parents had just walked in the room.

"Argh!" he growled, pulling himself back up through the bed, "I haven't had to deal with this since last year!" Looking up, he blinked on sighting his parents. "Uh... hi?"

"Danny, are you all right?" His mother asked, concern coloring her tone.

The halfa nodded, "Yeah... it's just annoying, that's all."

"Whatever it is, son, we'll take care of it!" Jack boomed, whipping out a Fenton Blaster.

Danny cringed. "Uh, no, Dad... it's not like that. I'm just having a few, uh, problems with my powers."

Jack immediately looked disappointed. "Oh." Suddenly he brightened, "Maybe we can get that ghost out of you with the Fenton--"

"Jack, honey," Maddie interrupted, seeing the alarmed look on her son's face, "He's not possessed, remember?"

"Oh. That's right..." he had the grace to look somewhat sheepish. "Sorry, son."

Maddie turned her attention back to what Danny had said, "What kind of problems, sweetie?"

Danny shrugged uncomfortably and started sinking through the mattress. "Gah!" he snapped. "That kind. I'm having trouble controlling my intangibility and I've gone invisible by accident twice. I haven't had control problems like these since just after the accident!" It was pretty easy to see how frustrated he was and Maddie started getting concerned.

"Do you think that this has something to do with the, um, _spell_ you were hit with?" For the adult Fentons and Jazz, the last few days had been filled with learning about the Wizarding World, how it worked, and how magic worked. Maddie was still somewhat uncomfortable with the idea, but both Jazz and Jack had had the occasion to blather on about what they were learning to Danny, who wasn’t in the position to run away.

Danny raked a hand through his hair with a soft, exasperated sound in his throat. "Maybe. I don't know. It's not like people usually have to watch for side-effects with that thing--it's supposed to kill on contact."

Both his parents looked horrified at that, and Danny realized it probably hadn't been the best thing to say.

"It's OK, really... it doesn't work on me."

Jack took him at his word, but his mother was less than amiable towards the whole situation. "Well, it obviously did _something_ to you, Daniel Fenton! Your heart stopped _twice!_ "

He winced. "Mom--"

"Don't 'Mom' me, young man!"

He bit back a sigh and let her rant. He supposed it was only normal that she would have been worried and she kind of deserved to get a little upset. That didn't mean he had to like it, though.

When her anger petered out, she looked like she was on the edge of an emotional breakdown. "You could have _died_ , Danny..." This time he did sigh, trying, for once, to think of what to say before actually saying it. He settled for something a bit gentler than he had originally planned.

"I, uh, kinda already _have_ , Mom... so it can't kill me _again._ From what Dumbledore said, that curse is very straightforward. It can only kill something that's 100 percent alive." He thought about that for a moment and made a face. "Ugh. That sounded kinda morbid... Where's Jazz?"

That last little question was part 'I just noticed she's not here', part honest wondering, and part 'please pop in and use your psychology skills to tell me what's up with our parents'. While she didn't show up and rescue him, the question was an effective topic change that got his parents thinking about something other than their son's multiple near-death experiences.

Maddie looked around. "I don't know," she admitted, slightly worried.

"I'll find her!" Jack offered, taking off for the door, "Hang on Jazzy-pants! I'll save you!"

Danny stared at the empty doorway bemusedly, before he thought of something. "Winky?" he asked loudly. His mother looked at him oddly, probably wondering whether the curse had fried his brain as well.

"Danny, what--" she was cut off by a loud CRACK.

"Master Danny, sir? Does sir need something?" The small house elf looked eager to help.

"Hi, Winky. Do you know where my sister is?"

Winky looked a little troubled. "Winky does not know sir's sister. Will sir tell Winky what sir's sister looks like?"

Danny rubbed the back of his neck. "Right. Sorry. Um, long red hair, a bit taller than I am..." he trailed off as he felt a slight chill similar to the feeling he got when ghosts were around. His breath wasn’t visible, though. Maddie didn't notice.

"Winky thinks sir's sister is in the corridor on the fifth floor. Would sir like Winky to find her?"

Danny gave a relieved sigh. "Would you? You know, to see if she's all right?"

Winky gave him a beaming smile. "Of course, sir! Winky is happy to help Master Danny!" With that she CRACKed off, presumably to the fifth floor. Maddie blinked at the empty place that had held the grubbily dressed little creature.

"Danny..." she started cautiously, "What was that?"

He looked up, "Huh? Oh. That was Winky. She's a house-elf." He was slightly distracted, looking for what might have set off his ghost sense--or, almost, anyway. Whatever it was, it couldn't be very strong. Ah. There it was. A pearly white, translucent specter that appeared to be covered in silvery blood hovered in the corner of the hospital ward, watching him closely. Creepy, but silent and even weaker than the Box Ghost, so nothing to worry about, right? It watched him for a few more moments before drifting through the wall.

He looked back at his mother, whose expression mirrored his own. Stunned and slightly disturbed confusion.

"What was _that_ about?"

_xxxx_

Severus Snape looked up as the temperature in his already cold lab in the dungeons chilled a hair more. He gave a short nod of greeting to the Bloody Baron, Slytherin House's ghost. The Baron was less than verbose and had no qualms about frightening the students, no matter what house they belonged to, but he was loyal in his own way.

"The boy is... different," the ghost said in a low, raspy voice that tended to raise the hair on people's arms, though Snape had never been bothered by it.

His words caught the Potions Master's attention. "How so?"

"He could sense me before I came and knew I was there while I was invisible. He did not fear me, though my presence disturbed him."

Snape scowled, disconcerted by the news. "Is he human?"

"He breathes."

That wasn't precisely an answer, but if the Baron was being evasive, straight answers were nearly impossible to get. "Thank you for informing me, Baron," he said instead, "I will keep an eye on him."

The Baron began to float through a wall, a faint, knowing smirk on his otherwise stony face. "That may prove difficult, Master Snape."

Dark eyes narrowed at the wall the ghost had just vanished through. What on earth was _that_ supposed to mean?

_xxxx_

Danny had, once again, been left alone in the Hospital Wing to slowly go crazy when the headmaster reappeared, this time dressed in canary yellow robes that no doubt matched his treasured lemon drops.

"Ah, Daniel, there you are." He greeted as though he had searched everywhere for Danny before finding him here. Danny glanced up sharply and Dumbledore suddenly remembered his request from the day before.

"Ah yes. Danny. I would like to have a word with you if I could, dear boy."

Danny gave a curt nod that might have meant anything. "Yes?"

The professor decided not to beat around the bush. As far as he could tell, the boy had no patience for games. "You and your family will be in danger if the Death Eaters find out you are still alive. The situation is rather sensitive. If you are seen… well, things would become much more difficult."

Danny considered that, reading in between the lines easily enough. He had become quite good at that over the last few years. "So, are you warning me because you care about what happens to my family or because you're trying to contain the damage?"

It was a shrewd question, but spoken lightly. Dumbledore spoke carefully, not wanting to offend or alienate the young halfa.

"Both. You must understand that Lord Voldemort has been attempting to find a way to make himself immortal, and you just survived the Killing Curse. You will become a target."

Danny shrugged. "So I go home through the Ghost Zone. Anything else?"

"They are searching for you with magic. Distance will not make a difference."

The blue-eyed boy sighed softly. "Right. And I can't go home yet, anyway. I'd set off every defense system in the house."

That was puzzling. For once, the Headmaster decided to voice his question. "What do you mean?"

"My control's been off ever since I got hit by that curse," Danny admitted, looking rather disgruntled. "I keep on falling through things--which I haven't done in over a year."

That brought a frown to the professor's face. "It did cause you harm, then?"

Danny shook his head, a perplexed crease in his brow. "I honestly don't know. It doesn't _feel_ like it—I mean, I don’t feel any pain—but then again..." he shrugged stiffly. "Maybe I should go ask Clockwork."

"Clockwork?" Dumbledore frowned in confusion. More and more questions. My, this boy had brought him more puzzles and confusion than he could remember experiencing in the last fifty years.

"Yeah, he's a ghost. He controls time." Despite the fact that Clockwork himself had labeled this wizard trustworthy, Danny wasn't sure it was a good idea to tell him the Time Master knew _everything._ "He usually can find out why something has happened." He added, so Dumbledore wouldn't start to question.

"I see." The Headmaster said, stroking his beard with a contemplative look in his eyes.

Danny eyed the old wizard warily. "I don't think he'll help you," he said frankly. "He doesn't like to interfere."

Dumbledore shook his head, the considering gleam replaced with the customary twinkle. "Of course, Danny. One final thing: would you and your family like to stay at a safehouse until term starts? That may be enough time for things to settle down or at least long enough for us to place some wizardly protections around your home in America."

Danny thought that one over. He wasn't overly concerned with his own safety, but he wanted his family away from here. "Does Lord Voldy-something have any reason to go after my family?"

Dumbledore overlooked the 'Voldy-something' with a slight smile and shook his head. "No more than any other Muggle family, so long as he remains unaware that they are _your_ family."

Danny nodded slightly. "Then I'd like them back in Amity Park as soon as possible. They'll be safer away from me. Besides, _someone_ needs to keep the ghost attacks down."

The headmaster's first impulse was to protest, as Danny was just a boy and needed help, but Danny noticed and shook his head.

"They _will_ be safer away from me, at least until psycho dude is taken down."

The 'boy' was right. It was a terrible, ugly thing, but he was right. His family would be safer without him, especially since they didn't have the same protection against curses that he did. Dumbledore relented, accepting that fact, if unhappily.

"You will need to talk to them," he cautioned.

Danny sighed. "I know." This was one conversation he was _not_ looking forward to.

xxxx

Once Jack had been found (he had become lost looking for the kitchens) and Jazz had drifted back from the library, Danny really had no way to justify putting it off.

“Hey, Danny,” Jazz gave her brother an encouraging smile, knowing he had to be going crazy cooped up in this room—then she frowned as she realized his expression was less irritated frustration than extreme apprehension. “Is something wrong?”

Danny hesitated for a moment.

“Honey? Are you feeling all right?”

Mothers. Always worrying. “No, no, I’m fine, really!” Danny said hastily, “It’s just…” Here he paused again, wondering how best to put it.

“Don’t worry, son! Whatever it is, we’ll take care of it for you!” Jack jumped up enthusiastically. Danny barely refrained from slapping his forehead in exasperation, though the temptation to sink into his bed was rather strong as well. _He doesn’t know what he’s saying…_

“There’s really no good way to say this, so, uh, you have to go back to Amity Park.”

“Of course we do,” Maddie agreed firmly. “We can’t stay here with those evil wizards after you.”

Danny winced slightly. _Somehow, I don’t think she means the same thing I do…_ “I mean, you have to go _without_ me.”

Pause.

“ _What!?_ ”

_xxxx_

All in all, the conversation had gone better than Danny had expected. His parents didn’t like it—they _really_ didn’t like it—but eventually they heard him out.

And disagreed.

Understandably, of course, as they _were_ the parents and felt they should be taking care of the child, not the other way around. However, eventually Dumbledore stepped in and convinced the elder Fentons that their son would be safer without them, at least for the time being.

_xxxx_

“And watch out for the ghost vultures. They seem polite enough, but they’re almost always out for—”

“Danny!” Jazz straightened up from her packing, cutting off her younger brother’s running litany of warnings. “Calm down. Mom and Dad may not be as good as you are, but they’re not _helpless._ ”

Danny gave a sheepish grimace. “I know, I know. It’s just—if Vlad finds out I’m not around, he’s really gonna go all out.”

“Danny, you said we got along fine without you in that alternate future for _ten years._ I’m sure we can handle a few months.”

Danny flinched at the reference. “ _Amity Park_ got along fine without me,” he corrected harshly. “You guys were _dead._ ” The silence that followed was somewhere between pained and awkward.

“Right. I’m sorry, Danny.” Jazz knew he hadn’t told her the whole story and was pretty sure that he—the current him, not just the alternate—had seen them die. Even if it hadn’t really happened, the experience had to be traumatizing.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked, concerned.

The look Jazz received in return gave a very clear ‘no’. She opened her mouth to tell her little brother that repressing his emotions was bad for him, but stopped. Now probably wasn’t the best time.

“Just… call me if you need anything, all right, Danny?”She finally sighed.

Danny nodded, his clear blue eyes hinting at gratitude. “Thanks, Jazz. Look after Mom and Dad for me. Remember to tell Sam and Tucker what’s going on.” Jazz nodded and then giggled suddenly, earning herself an odd look. Danny was pretty sure his sister was going crazy, and this just cemented the idea in his head. Jazz _never_ giggled _._

“Sorry,” Jazz got her laughter under control. “It’s just… all this. Our parents are ghost hunters, _you’re_ a ghost, evil mages are after you, and I’m _still_ more worried about an emotionally healthy environment!”

Danny managed a small grin. “Face it, Jazz. Weirdness is pretty normal for us—a _normal_ day would be a _weird_ one.”

_xxxx_

Once his family left, Danny was informed that he couldn’t stay in the school until the semester—or term, or whatever the British called it—started. Hogwarts was (rightly) considered one of the safest magical places in the world, but a building of that size, even with all of the generalized protections in place, wasn’t safe enough without more people in it.

A few teachers and a small army of house-elves just didn’t have the same dissuading power as several hundred students, most of whom had advanced enough magical knowledge to defend themselves at least reasonably well. So, Danny was sent—via “portkey”, unfortunately—to the headquarters of something called “The Order of the Phoenix”. He assumed that it had been named after Dumbledore’s bird, whom he had met only a day after arriving in Hogwarts. The beautiful bird had examined him thoroughly through its golden eyes before chirping and perching on his headboard in order to groom Danny’s wild hair. He hadn’t been able to get rid of the bird for hours at a time when the mood struck it—which happened to be at least once a day.

The building that housed the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, however, seemed to be the very opposite of what Dumbledore and his side stood for. Not only was it dark, dusty, and dank, but only people personally informed by Dumbledore of its existence could see it. All in all, it was a _very_ creepy house.

_And if it can creep out a ghost…_

Danny shuddered as he saw house-elf heads hung along the walls of the stairwell just inside the entrance hall, the thought idly crossing his mind with a kind of morbid humor. The house appeared to be empty at the moment as he couldn’t hear any voices from anywhere in the building. Slowly, he moved into the room, heading along the walls as he did when he wasn’t sure how safe his new location was. In his distraction, he brushed up against an umbrella stand, rattling a few of the items in it loudly.

Something—or someone—began screaming shrilly (foul obscenities and nasty slurs, as far as he could tell) and Danny spun, shooting off a weak ecto-blast reflexively from his open palm. The scream ceased abruptly.

Danny blinked at the hole burnt in an old drape that was oddly placed on the wall across from the stairwell. He strode over to it quickly and yanked it aside, afraid he’d hit something valuable. He made a faint noise of surprise when he saw the painting of a rather unpleasant-looking woman staring at the scorch in the corner of her canvas in total shock. Of _course_ there was a moving portrait behind the drapes. Why hadn’t he thought of that _before_ he shot it?

“Oops.” Danny rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, giving the painting an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that, ma’am.” He paused, peering at the mark. “Huh. I know I didn’t put much power in it, but it should have at least made a hole…”

The creepy lady stared at him for several seconds, and then abruptly fled the frame as though afraid he would try again. She didn’t say another word.

“You actually _scorched_ her painting?”

Danny spun to face the incredulous voice, wincing. “I’m sorry! She screamed and I just…” Danny trailed off, blue eyes blinking in bewilderment as he registered the scruffy-looking man’s broad grin. His black hair was long and wild, matching the short bristle of growth along his jaws and the look in his blue eyes was both light and mischievous. He sort of looked like he had just escaped from the wilds.

“Don’t be!” The man reassured, “I’ve been trying to get her off of that wall for _months!_ ”

Danny gave him a strange look. “Really? What, did someone magic her to the wall or something?”

The man grimaced. “Or something. I think ‘dear old mum’ put a Dark variant of a Permanent Sticking Charm on the back of it, but I can’t be sure. If we’re lucky, you’ve scared her enough to keep her quiet for a few days.”

Danny stared for a moment, then shook himself. “Uh… who are you?”

“Right! Sorry, I’m Sirius Black. Call me Sirius, please.” The man swept his thin torso into a bow and grinned roguishly. Despite himself, a smile tugged at Danny’s lips. Suddenly, there was a slight cough from a doorway off to the side of the hall.

“Ah, and this is the lovely Nymphadora Tonks.” Sirius added. Danny raised a brow at the hot bubblegum pink hair the young woman in the doorway sported. It was the first thing he noticed about her, quickly followed by her pretty, heart-shaped face and the half-grimace that was plastered on her face.

“Tonks, please.” She said firmly and Danny gave a grin, recognizing the tone he used whenever someone called him ‘Daniel’.

“Danny Fenton. Dumbledore sent me to stay here for the rest of the summer until Voldy-pants gets tired of looking for me.” Sirius made a sound like he was choking on his own saliva and Tonks stared. Though they were not amongst those who flinched at the sound of that name, they were unaccustomed to hearing it made fun of _._ Like the kid thought it was utterly ridiculous.

“So you’re the kid wanted by the Death Eaters, huh?” Tonks asked.

Danny shrugged. “Creepy guys, black robes, white masks, follow a genocidal maniac?”

A pink eyebrow quirked slightly. “That would be them, yes.”

“Never heard of ‘em.”

Sirius cracked a grin. “Right. I think I like this kid, Tonks.”

“Well, I hadn’t!” Danny defended honestly. “Not until Moody showed up.”

“Old Mad Eye was the one who found you, huh?” Tonks grimaced. “Sorry about that. Most wizards are a bit… more relaxed than he is.” Danny just shrugged. From what he had heard of the Wizarding World’s troubles so far, he thoughts that they could afford to be at least a bit paranoid. He was broken from his thoughts when a tinny beeping noise issued from Tonks and her hair suddenly changed to puke green. She checked the watch on her wrist and made a face.

“That means my break is over. Back to work for me, everyone. Danny, it was nice to meet you; you’ll probably see me around fairly often. Ciao, Sirius!” She added before ducking into another room, a rush of air announcing her departure. Danny stared after her with an odd expression.

“Er, wasn’t her hair just pink?” He asked uncertainly. Sirius grinned.

“Tonks is our resident Metamorphmagus, meaning she can change her appearance at will. Pink happens to be her favorite flavor of the month.”

“Really? No way! That’s way too cool!” Danny blurted, for once sounding like his age. _Man, if only I had_ that _power! I wouldn’t have to worry about anyone seeing Danny Fenton changing into Danny Phantom._

“Come on, kid, I’ll show you around.” Sirius said, bouncing on the balls of his feet like an excited puppy. Danny followed him around as he explained the history of the house and his own family, showing him where the training room, library, kitchen, and bedrooms were. He described the signs of any Dark magic (which Danny silently noted that he could sense almost in the same way as his ghost sense. It resembled the itching sensation he had felt in the graveyard) and explained the rules for when the Order was meeting.

Truthfully, Danny wasn’t too put out about not being allowed to join the meetings—he didn’t belong in the Wizarding World, after all, and he didn’t really need to know any intimate details that could be dangerous to his health—but he made a mental note to catch Dumbledore before or after the meetings in order to be updated on his own situation.

That night, after a sociable dinner with Sirius (Danny learned that the innocent man was currently on the run from the wizarding police and had been confined to this house much as Danny was), the halfa lay on the soft bed in the room he had been loaned and stared up at the dark ceiling.

Carefully, he went through everything he had learned and catalogued every piece of information in his mind for easy recall. He had found that this method of organizing his mind had made him that much quicker and effective when dealing with new ghosts or situations. He still hadn’t told Jazz that he had actually taken her psychological advice and practiced it daily.

He would never hear the end of it.

Xxxx

By the evening of the second day, Danny was beginning to understand why Sirius had been so excited to see him: there was nothing to _do_ in the infamous House of Black. He wasn’t one for chatting with complete strangers, so after exploring the house and eating meals with Sirius, he had quickly been reduced to spending time in the library of all places.

Granted, Danny had been reading more than he did when he was a freshman in high school lately, but it was still rare that he would voluntarily seek out a book for entertainment. In this case, considering how the Wizarding World seemed to be stuck in the seventeenth century in the way of technology, it was his only choice.

And so it was that Tonks found Danny curled up on a couch in a dusty, unused room with a first year Defense text before dinner. The general filthiness of the room didn’t bother Danny—he had had to experience dirtier and darker places in his dealings with ghosts—but it certainly seemed to disturb her, especially when she saw that he had company.

“Danny! What are you _doing?_ ” Tonks half-yelped, pulling her wand. “There are doxies in this room!” He blinked, lowering the book to raise an eyebrow at her.

“Doxies?” he asked, momentarily puzzled before he realized what she must be talking about. “Oh! You mean these little guys?” He held up a black-furred little creature with multiple limbs—four arms and four legs—and shiny black beetle-wing casings over its delicate flying wings from where it had been perching on the couch’s arm. It bared sharp fangs in something that was about equal parts smile and snarl.

Tonks’ eyes widened. “Danny! Put it down! Those things are poisonous!”

“Really?” His blue eyes turned on the doxy in his hand before he raised the other to pet the little creature’s head with gentle fingers. It closed its mouth and squinted its yellow eyes in obvious pleasure, making a sound very much like a tinny purr. “I kinda like ‘em.”

Tonks seemed rather taken aback by that—or possibly the fact that another doxy had just poked its head up from Danny’s messy black hair and chittered at her before curling up and petting the boy’s forehead. Doxies were notably aggressive little beasts, not nearly as agreeable as Cornish Pixies—which were among the most _disagreeable_ fairy-like creatures in the wizarding world. The fact that the doxies had obviously taken a liking to the American kid was a bit odd, to say the least.

“Well… er, be careful.” Tonks managed after a few moments. “They’re dangerous to wizards.”

“Well, yeah, some of them. But these three seem to like me,” he smiled as said third beastie peeked bright purple eyes over his shoulder to look at Tonks before ducking back behind him with a terrified squeak.

She cringed. “Did any of them bite you?”

Danny shrugged. “A couple tried. But they didn’t seem to like it very much and the rest left me alone afterwards—except these three.”

“Tried?” Tonks asked before she could stop herself. She didn’t want to know, she was sure of that.

Danny winced a bit. “I sort of, er, _squashed_ them. I didn’t mean to—I was just surprised.”

Tonks considered all the many things she could say to that and decided to pretend she hadn’t heard. “Well, anyway, it’s time for supper, Danny. Why don’t you come down?” Danny slid a scrap of parchment between the pages of his book and snapped it shut with a small puff of dust. He was eager for some sort of distraction.

“Sure.”

_xxxx_

Danny followed Tonks downstairs and headed to the kitchen as she broke off to go into the sitting room. He ducked in the doorway and he nearly ran into someone coming out carrying a stack of dishes—Sirius. Only Danny’s surprised flash into intangibility saved them from a collision and his left arm and shoulder phased through the startled man.

Danny froze.

Sirius blinked, shook his head, and reached out to tap Danny’s now-solid shoulder. He blinked and his eyebrows scrunched in confusion when he saw that Danny was completely solid. “All right, that was weird.”

Danny had to agree; it wasn’t often that he phased through living things and less so that he did it by accident. He supposed his powers hadn’t settled back under complete control, yet. That might explain the doxies he’d fried when they tried to bite him. It wasn’t _squashing_ , per se, as he had told Tonks, but he had a feeling that she hadn’t really wanted to know anyway.

“Just a little,” Danny shook himself. “Have you already eaten?”

Sirius shook his head, lips quirking into a grin. “I was just going to look for you. Tonks said she’d send you down, but it’d been about fifteen minutes and I was starving. Where were…” The man trailed off, his expression suddenly transforming into shock as he stared at Danny.

Danny suddenly felt uneasy and he cleared his throat, his arm creeping up to rub his neck as it did when he was nervous or embarrassed. He hoped his powers hadn’t decided to turn him invisible.

“Danny, don’t move.” Sirius said carefully, eyes fixed on the boy’s hair. “Whatever you do, don’t make any sudden movements. You have a doxy on your head.”

 _Oh._ Danny relaxed with a relieved sigh and shrugged. “Yeah, I know. So?”

“Doxies are poisonous.” Sirius informed, clearly a bit uneasy.

“Yes, Tonks told me.” Danny reached up and carefully felt his hair until four little hands clasped around his finger and he gently lifted the little creature off his head. Bright orange eyes blinked at him and the creature bared sharp fangs in a happy smile while it kicked its four legs cheerfully. “Hi, Fuzzy,” he greeted with a smile. “Why are you so obsessed with my hair?”

The doxy chittered for several seconds before buzzing its wings and returning to the top of Danny’s head, burrowing into his hair contentedly. Danny sighed and shrugged at Sirius’ disbelieving stare.

“What? He likes me. Or, at least, he likes my hair. Can we eat or what?”

Lunch was a quiet affair, punctuated by the slight disturbance of Danny’s doxies climbing from their hiding places in clothes and hair to inspect his roast-beef sandwich, which he responded to by giving each of them a third of a slice.

Danny had just gotten up to take his plate to the sink while his doxies were quietly squabbling over the last bits of his sandwich when there was a distinctly loud clatter in the sitting room, followed by Tonks’ apologizing and a silkily annoyed voice he didn’t recognize. Curious, Danny shot a glance at a clearly disgruntled Sirius before wandering out to see who was there.

He paused, suddenly tense, as a strangely familiar chill tingled through his nerves, like but not like the sensation of a weak ghost. There was Dark magic nearby.

_xxxx_

Severus Snape stepped curtly out of the fireplace of Grimmauld Place holding a carefully-bottled dose of Wolfsbane for the Order’s werewolf. He was by no means _fond_ of Remus Lupin and the man’s notable absence from the room Snape had just Flooed into only irritated him more.

A certain clumsy Auror’s collision with the low table upon which he had _just_ set the bottle down sent his irritation to dangerous heights.

The bottle clattered to the floor and a pink-haired Tonks started babbling apologies as Snape swiftly bent to right it, not immediately seeing any damage. That didn’t stop him from berating the woman for her clumsiness—how on earth had she managed to pass the Auror’s Exams with no sense of balance? He asked as much, though the wording was a shade more cutting as most of his attention remained on the clear vial, checking for any cracks or chips.

None. The bottle was whole and undamaged, which was barely enough to make him content to ignore the annoying woman while he waited for the werewolf to show up for his monthly medication. His eyes swept the room for the second time since he’d arrived, a habitual check for any threats or information. None, though the Metamorphagus was fleeing with little regard to dignity.

Not that Andromeda Tonks ever had much regard for dignity, come to think of it, so why should her accident-prone offspring be any different?

Snape’s eyes followed her as she made her way out the doorway and landed on a boy that, if not for the hairstyle and sky-blue eyes, he might have thought was Potter. The comparison, however slight, was enough for his irritation to spike again and he sneered balefully at the teen. Much to his surprise—though he never showed it, of course—the boy barely registered the threatening expression. Instead of reacting with fear or surprise, the boy seemed cold and calculating.

“You were there.” It wasn’t a question and the voice that spoke was like ice cold steel. The boy’s sapphire-blue eyes were narrowed dangerously, flickering briefly to a glowing green that made Potter’s emerald look dull. While it wasn’t enough to break Snape’s iron-tight control on his emotions, the strange event was enough for him to temper his irritation cautiously.

“I beg your pardon?” His voice was cool and collected, not revealing any hint to his confusion. Snape was sure he didn’t know what the wisp of a boy was talking about.

“At the graveyard.”

Snape blinked, stunned despite himself. Merlin help him, this was the boy that Voldemort was after for his immunity to the Killing Curse. How had he known? Snape was sure that the boy hadn’t seen him, and even if he had, he’d been wearing Death Eater robes and mask, and he’d never spoken, not even for a spell. He opened his mouth with the intent to refute the claim in some suitably scathing manner when the boy took a step forward.

Snape felt the oddest urge to laugh. The whelp was all but accusing him of being a Death Eater, one of the feared followers of the Dark Lord, and he was coming _towards_ him. Then it occurred to him that the boy really had nothing to worry about from a single Death Eater after having taken on nearly all of the Dark Lord’s inner circle and surviving. The words that slipped out of his mouth came completely without his consent.

“How do you know?”

“You feel the same.” Those piercing blue eyes slid over him, searching, and settled their gaze on his hidden Dark Mark. Snape felt the familiar urge to rub the marred limb but refrained through sheer habit. “It’s coming from your arm, mostly, but it sort of spreads out from there…” the boy trailed off, seemingly uncertain but nonetheless determined to act should Snape prove to be dangerous.

Snape wasn’t sure what to say to that. The very thought that someone else could _feel_ his Dark Mark was disturbing on levels he wasn’t sure he wanted to explore. In order for it to be felt like that… there was no way it was simply a _Protean-_ imbued tattoo. On the one hand, it made him extremely uncomfortable, but on the other… well. If the boy was capable of _feeling_ the Dark Mark without ever having to visually check if it was there, it was quite possible he could be of help to the Order in rooting out Death Eaters.

“I see,” he remarked dryly. “And you, naturally, are suspicious of this… ‘feeling’.”

Blue sparked green for a breath. “Naturally,” the boy tossed back at him, echoing his own derisive tone.

Almost impressive.

“Not that anyone your age should be prying into these matters,” Snape finally sneered, “but it is required of me to find out first-hand information on the Dark Lord’s movements and intentions.”

The instincts that told him that the whelp wouldn’t be intimidated by his words were proven correct yet again by the raven-haired teen merely raising an eyebrow and letting a wry smirk twist his lips. It was an expression that the boy had very nearly mastered already—impressive, though Snape had managed to master most of his trademark expressions by the time he was thirteen.

“Wow. I wish I had someone like you to keep tabs on Vlad _…_ ” It was a mutter he was relatively certain the boy had not expected him to hear. The boy raised his voice. “Ok, so you spy on Voldemort—I have a question. Does he want to kill me or have me as a minion?”

Snape blinked. Well, the boy caught on quickly, that much was certain. Snape was beginning to have the sneaking suspicion that the boy would have made a rather decent Slytherin had he been a wizard.

“I believe he wishes to find the source of your apparent immortality.”

“You mean my survival of the Killing Curse? Wonderful, just wonderful.” The boy grumbled. “Why is it always the crazy ones that are after me? At least he hasn’t threatened to kill me and place my pelt at the foot of his bed…”

Snape felt an eyebrow rise of its own accord—from his tone, someone really had threatened that before. “Do people often threaten to kill you?”

“Well, not ‘kill’ _per se,_ I suppose. Skulker just wants my hide for a throw rug and my head for a wall hanging, which sort of amounts to the same thing, but it’s complicated. And that’s just Skulker.” The teen—really, he should probably find out his name soon—shrugged, not seeming overly concerned.

“Indeed.” Snape said dryly, drawing another smirk from the boy, who had relaxed somewhat by now. “I suppose that is something we may have in common. What is your name, boy?”

“Danny Fenton. And you are?”

“Professor Severus Snape, Potion’s Master at Hogwarts.” Snape replied with a sardonic little half-bow. He had been reluctant to tell the boy who he was at first, but it was not a great admission considering that he had just admitted that he dared to spy on the Dark Lord. The boy would likely find out shortly at any rate.

“Pleased to meet you, I’m sure. I’ve heard something about you—though I’m not sure I should repeat everything Sirius says. He can get really creative sometimes.”

“No doubt.” Snape scowled but was too interested in the conversation to vent _that_ particular frustration. “Tell me, Mr. Fenton, who is this ‘Vlad’ you mentioned? Is he a danger to our plans?” The boy—Danny—gave him a strange look.

“You heard that? _Teachers._ Honestly, they all have the hearing of a _bat_.” He said before he froze, giving Snape a look of horror mixed with embarrassment. No doubt he had already observed the dour Potions Master’s resemblance to said animal. Snape glowered down at him expressionlessly and the teen gulped and stuttered in a way that reminded the professor more of the other teens under his tutelage. It made him smile darkly inside at the knowledge that this boy wasn’t completely fearless.

“Er, I mean—Well, that doesn’t— _Anyway_ , Vlad’s just another evil megalomaniac fruitloop bent on world domination. Well, all right, maybe not _world_ domination… no, wait. I take that back. World domination is fourth on his list, right before buying the Packers.”

He was _not_ going to ask. Although... “What does he want from you?”

“Uh, well… He wants to kill my dad, marry my mom, and turn me into his evil minion and/or son so that we can take over the world and he’ll finally be able to get his hands on the Packers. That’s an American sport’s team, by the way.”

That was ridiculous. Completely, utterly ridiculous. And the fact that a Muggle sport’s team factored into the situation at all made it ever _more_ ludicrous. Fenton must have gathered as much from his blank, disbelieving stare and he nodded, his expression more serious now.

“He’s probably insane in more than one way. That means that he might be stupid enough to consider teaming up with Voldemort, but I doubt that it would happen. For one thing, he doesn’t even know that the Wizarding World exists, and for another he has no idea that I’m even in London. That’s definitely a good thing, because if he allied with Voldemort there’s only so much I can do. He’s older, more powerful, more experienced, and more devious than I am.”

“You mean there are others with your type of magic?” Snape asked sharply, his black eyes suddenly intense. The possibilities could be endless with an army that could both deflect and _survive_ the Killing Curse with no obvious side effects. However, Danny seemed to withdraw somewhat, looking bewildered by the question before he flushed.

“Uh… I don’t _have_ magic.”

Snape stared.

“Pray tell, then, _how_ it is possible that you could create a shield that deflects all three Unforgivable curses _and_ how you can survive a direct hit from _Avada Kedavra_ without magic?” Snape asked, scorn heavily layering his tone. “You are most certainly _not_ a mere Muggle.”

Danny hesitated. As it stood, Snape was actually the only wizard besides Dumbledore, Moody, and Madame Pomfrey who knew of his half-ghost status and abilities—and that was only because the professor had been there in the graveyard and saw Danny using his powers. The problem was that he didn’t _know_ that he knew about them. He thought that Danny had used some sort of magic.

“Well, it’s not exactly _magic_ , not in the way that the Wizarding World knows it,” Danny said carefully, deciding to go with a half-truth. “But I’m not exactly _human_ to begin with, either. The abilities that I have come with who—I mean, _what_ I am. Vlad and I are the only ones in the world.”

“Hmm…” Snape made a considering noise as he processed that. So, no army of invincible magic-wielders, either for the Light or the Dark side. According to Danny, there were only two of his kind in the world—how _that_ is possible, Snape wasn’t sure he wanted to know—and the other was decidedly evil and more powerful. It was, of course, impossible to ask a child of Danny’s age to fight in this war, no matter how mature he may be, which meant that they were back to square one.

Xxxxx

Danny watched the dark-clad man across from him. Despite the man’s prickly nature, he was sure that he truly didn’t have anything to fear from Snape as long as he held his tongue and didn’t do anything too stupid. After all, he was used to dealing with attacks on his intelligence and general competence from Vlad and Skulker and pretty much all of his enemies. It happened so often that he was rarely affected by it anymore—more bored than anything by the vicious banter.

But Snape, it seemed, was far more refined and sophisticated with his words than anyone he had ever met before. Each word or phrase was carefully chosen for a very specific purpose, and it was fairly interesting to dissect the verbal patchwork. Though, considering how bored Danny had become in the last two days, an appearance by the Box Ghost would be interesting.

Suddenly, the silence that had fallen over the room was broken by a rush of green flames from the fireplace that made Danny jump in surprise, his eyes flashing green as he sprang into a defensive crouch. Green ectoplasm swirled in his palm, aimed for the tall, worn man that stepped calmly from the fireplace. The man didn’t seem to notice Danny immediately, his unique amber eyes focusing on Snape instead.

“Ah, Severus, you’re here already. I’m sorry—” He man suddenly froze, his entire body tensing and shuddering like he was trying to remove some sensation on his skin. His eyes—which Danny was surprised to see had flecks of glowing gold now—suddenly flickered around the room and snapped to Danny. His expression seemed to be caught somewhere between apprehensive and tortured. Danny’s sensitive hearing caught the sound of a low growl.

“Snape?” Danny asked uncertainly, not removing his eyes from the man. Snape stepped closer to Danny, surprisingly planting himself almost protectively in front of the teen.

“I would suggest that you leave for the moment, Mr. Fenton.” The older man’s voice was quiet but curt. “I am not in any danger, but the situation would be easier if you weren’t here. I’ll let you know when you can return.” Danny nodded cautiously, trusting that Snape knew what he was talking about, and slowly backed away toward the door.

The golden eyes never left him until he made it through the doorway and closed the door.

Xxxxx

“Lupin! Get a hold of yourself, man!” Snape snapped irritably as he stalked to the low table and snatched up the dose of Wolfsbane. He approached the shaking man and shoved the vial into his hands.

“Drink it quickly.” He ordered curtly, watching carefully as the man obeyed. Almost immediately after the shudder of disgust passed, the shaking stopped and Lupin relaxed, straightening his body. His eyes bled back to their calm amber hue.

“Oh Merlin, Severus, who was _that_?” He gasped, both confused and dismayed. “ _What_ was that? Moony never reacts that way to humans! Just being in the same room… my skin was itching and Mooney’s senses felt like they were being burned by ice.”

“The boy is not fully human,” Snape agreed sourly. “But he should not have affected you so drastically; it is most likely because the full moon is tonight.”

“But who is he?” Lupin insisted. Snape rolled his eyes inwardly and pinched the bridge of his hooked nose.

“He is the one that interrupted the meeting at the graveyard last week. Dumbledore, apparently, has sent him here for his safety. His name is Danny Fenton. That is all I know about him. If you are under control, you can meet him yourself.”

Xxxx

Danny stopped pacing as the door opened and the tall form of the Potions professor emerged and beckoned him to enter. He followed without hesitation, inwardly surprised at how willing he was to trust someone who put Sam’s Gothic tendencies to shame.

Upon entering the living room, he saw the man from before hovering anxiously by the fireplace as if debating whether he should leave. Once he crossed the threshold, the man stiffened again, but visibly forced himself to relax.

“You must be Danny Fenton. You’ve made quite a stir lately,” the man said with a small smile. “My name is Remus Lupin. I’m very sorry about my reaction to you earlier. I wasn’t… in complete control of myself.”

Danny nodded, accepting the apology, but Snape saw fit to speak up.

“Lupin is a werewolf, Mr. Fenton, which means that he harbors the spirit of a wolf that emerges during the full moon. Apparently, with the wolf being closer to the surface at this time of month, it sensed you and did not react favorably to your presence.” Lupin grimaced at the blunt words, but gave him another apologetic look.

Far from being frightened by the revelation, Danny found that he actually relaxed and gave the guilty man a small smile.

“Oh, it actually makes sense now,” he responded, much to their surprise. “I’ve found that most, er, canines don’t like me very much. Horses, too.” He paused. “Actually, now that I think about it, most animals don’t seem to like me very much. But why are you fine now?”

“Severus supplies me with a very complex potion that allows me to keep my human mind while my body changes to a werewolf during the full moon. Drinking it for a few days beforehand helps me control my… wolfish reactions.” Lupin had slipped into a tone that Danny found very familiar. He groaned inwardly. _Another teacher…_ “Of course, once the full moon is over, I will be perfectly normal around you. I’m afraid that today I was just startled and my control slipped.”

Danny nodded. “It’s alright; I understand. So, what do you teach?”

Lupin seemed surprised at the abrupt change in topic. “Er… I taught Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts for a year. How did you know I am— _was_ a teacher?”

“I can tell,” was the cryptic response. “You said you _were_ a teacher. Why aren’t you one anymore?” Lupin sent a quick glance to Snape and ran a hand through his light brown hair, which was streaked with grey already despite his young appearance.

“It was revealed that I was a werewolf and I thought it best that I left. The Wizarding World has an unfortunate prejudice against many magical creatures.” Lupin’s eyes widened as Danny’s eyes flashed glowing green for a second.

“Believe me, I understand that completely. The human world is the same.” They shared a grim look.

“As touching as this is, I must return to Hogwarts,” Snape sneered. “Lupin, the final dose will be ready for you by tomorrow afternoon. _Please_ endeavor to be on time. Mr. Fenton—” He paused for a split second and met Danny’s eyes. “It was a pleasure.”

“Likewise, Mr. Snape.” Danny said easily with a nod. A moment later, the tall man had thrown a handful of green powder from a pot on the mantel and shouted “Hogwarts!” before stepping through and vanishing in a whirl of black robes and green flames.

Xxxx

Two nights later, there was an Order meeting.

By this point, Danny was feeling nearly claustrophobic. His life in Amity Park had been extremely fast and busy; every minute spent not fighting was treasured and used. The stress was part of the reason why his family had taken the trip to England in the first place. After nearly a week of nothing to do, he was starting to go stir crazy.

Thus, when he saw that Dumbledore had arrived, he immediately tried to speak to the old wizard but was prevented by Dumbledore informing him that he was to attend the meeting and all of his concerns would be addressed. Reluctantly, the halfa gave in and entered the kitchen, no longer surprised when he saw that it had been magically expanded on the inside. The table had been lengthened and now held the twenty-odd witches and wizards who were staring openly at him, whispered comments passing between neighbors.

Uneasy with the attention, Danny opted to lean against the wall in a shadowy corner of the room instead of sitting at the table. He didn’t know or trust most everyone in this room. Danny caught the eye—the real one—of Mad-Eye Moody and returned the nod that was directed at him, doing the same with Remus Lupin who sat next to Moody (looking like death warmed over, frankly). Dumbledore was calling them to order.

“I do hope you realize that you’ve stolen my spot, Mr. Fenton.” Snape’s silky baritone came from close to his right side and Danny turned his head with a grin and cheeky wink. From the slight itchiness at the edge of his senses, he had known that it was Snape.

“Finders keepers, Mr. Snape. I was here first, which means you have to go off and find another place to haunt.”

“I’d sooner use your spleen in a shrinking potion than allow your impudence to unseat me from my rightful place.” The man murmured in return, his glittering black eyes never moving from the meeting in front of him. The halfa gulped at that, but shrugged weakly.

“Then I guess you’ll just have to share with me, ‘cause I’m somewhat attached to my spleen.” He retorted. Snape simply snorted quietly and a smirk curled the edge of his lips. Danny was beginning to think that was the closest thing to a smile he could get from the man. They fell silent as Dumbledore began to speak.

“No doubt you have heard of the little upset within Voldemort’s ranks over a week ago, caused by a group of American Muggles who stumbled upon a Death Eater meeting and escaped unharmed. In fact, a member of the group had been struck by the Killing Curse twice during that night and recovered within hours, which—as you know—has spurred Voldemort into a frenzy to locate the boy. Luckily, we located him first and brought him to safety. Danny, would you like to step forward, please?”

Danny did so cautiously, his narrow gaze sweeping the crowd. He knew his body was tense and he tried to relax, reminding himself that Clockwork trusted Dumbledore and Dumbledore trusted all of these people. It didn’t help very much. Danny had always been shy and his secret identity had caused him to seek out even more obscurity. It went against every one of his finely-honed instincts to be revealed in this way to so many strangers.

“But he can’t be a day over fifteen! How on earth did he manage to survive the Killing Curse? His mother is still alive, isn’t she?” The woman who spoke was thin with her grey hair pulled back in a severe bun and stern lines drawn in her face. Before he could stop himself, Danny bristled.

“Hey! I’ll have you know that I’m sixteen already, thank you very much!” He sulked. He knew that he hadn’t grown much since his freshman year—he was still 5’6’’—and his clothes hid just how muscled he was, but he had hoped that he looked older than fifteen.

“No disrespect was meant, of course,” Dumbledore chuckled cheerily. “Everyone, this is Danny Fenton from Amity Park in America. From what I understand, he is one of only two of his kind on the planet—the other being older and most certainly evil.”

“And what, exactly, is he?” A huge black man who looked like he crushed cars into small cubes in his spare time spoke this time, his deep, measured voice being easily heard. “He looks human enough to me, and you said he is a Muggle.” Danny froze at this, ready to flee if he needed to. He hadn’t agreed that all of these people could be told his secret—it was dangerous enough with as many people knowing as they did, despite the fact that the possibilities of it leaking to the human world (much less America) was slim.

“First, I must reassure Danny that everyone in this room is under a special spell that prevents them from speaking anything that is said in this meeting whenever there is someone around who does not already know about it. Your secret will not leave this room.”

Danny nodded uncertainly. He wasn’t sure how this spell worked, but he trusted Dumbledore enough to relax slightly. He _was_ the most powerful wizard in England, after all. Dumbledore beamed at him.

“Very well. Mr. Fenton is indeed not fully human. In fact, I believe he is what is called a ‘halfa’, half-ghost, half-human. He lives in the Muggle world with his Muggle family and fights the ghosts that come from a portal connecting the realm of the dead—the ‘Ghost Zone’—to the realm of the living. You must understand that the ghosts that he fights are not of the same ilk as the Hogwarts ghosts; rather, they are far more powerful and cunning and dangerous.”

“H-half-ghost?” The same woman from before stammered. “How is that even possible, Albus? To be both alive and dead simultaneously….”

“I’m sure I do not know,” Dumbledore replied gravely. “However, the evidence is before us. Due to the nature of _Avada Kedavra_ and the nature of Danny’s ghost half, he was not affected by the Killing Curse except that he was put into a coma for a short time. A truly useful side-effect, but one that, we hope, is unable to be reproduced.”

The room erupted into a cacophony of chatter as they all discussed the possible ramifications of this revelation and Danny lost track of the conversation. He stared, confused and wary, and stepped back until he pressed against the wall. He didn’t realize that he had begun phasing through the wall until Snape grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him forward.

“Relax, Mr. Fenton,” he ordered, recognizing the signs of panic in Danny’s eyes. “They will no doubt have the topic thoroughly combed over within the next two hours and forgotten within the next two days. The situation is not as surprising as it may seem; we wizards are aware of the existence of the realm of the dead—we have ghosts that live among us, after all. And besides that, Black over there was pulled from a doorway leading into that realm after falling into it over a year ago. Unfortunately for the rest of us, of course.” He added with a sneer.

That got Danny’s attention. There was another portal here? “He was?” He asked sharply. “Where is this portal? Is it active?”

“It is in the depths of the Ministry of Magic, far beneath the Earth’s surface. It is heavily protected and isolated.”

“So you have no way of knowing if ghosts are escaping from it?” Danny asked incredulously. It was a wonder that they weren’t overrun with ghosts already.

“To our knowledge, only ghosts such as those at Hogwarts have ever emerged from the Veil. Nothing else is known about it.” Snape said.

“The Veil?” Danny repeated, deep in thought. “Why does that sound so familiar? I’m sure I’ve heard of some sort of veil before….” He was silent for a while, but no matter how much he searched his mind, he couldn’t remember where he had heard the phrase.

Xxxxxxx

Eventually, Danny learned that nothing had changed. The Death Eaters had no idea just what he was or what his powers consisted of, which was a major bonus. Unfortunately, this didn’t mean that he was in any less danger. He was still confined to the House of Black.

“Isn’t there something I can do to help?” he asked, frustrated. The kitchen was nearly empty now, only Sirius and Remus lingering on the other side of the room with an older couple. Dumbledore and Snape were standing next to Danny, the former shaking his head and frowning.

“Danny, you are only sixteen years old. You are far too young to be involved in a war, no matter what abilities you have.”

Wrong answer.

Danny’s eyes glowed bright green and he had to force himself to speak calmly. “I’m afraid that’s where you’re mistaken, Headmaster. I’ve been at war every day of my life since I was fourteen. I was the only thing stopping a ghost invasion that could cover America, if not the planet. I’ve been ‘involved’ in a ghost war that encompassed the ghost zone as well as the human world; I’ve led _armies_ and lost _friends_ during that war, so _don’t_ tell me that I’m too young!”

He paused for a second, taking a deep breath. He didn’t notice that the small group at the other side of the room had fallen silent at his outburst and were now staring at him. The ever-present doxies on his person were silent and still. Snape and Dumbledore were wide-eyed but he found that he wasn’t feeling satisfied about that. He was shaking.

“I want to help.” He finally continued. “I _can_ help. The only reason I’m stuck here is because I accidentally stumbled into your war and if I can do something to get it over with soon, than I want to do it. It’s my job to protect my home and I can’t waste my time here twiddling my thumbs when I’ve got my own war to fight.”

Danny found that he couldn’t wait for their response. His emotions were overwhelming him, crashing against the walls of his restraint, and he couldn’t stop himself from slowly backing away from them until his back hit the wall. Somehow, his tortured eyes found Snape’s just before he phased through the wall. There was an unidentifiable emotion in those pitch black eyes, but Danny didn’t wait to decipher it. Instead, he turned and ran.

Within seconds, he was inside the dusty, unused room on the second floor. He crumpled to the floor in the corner and drew his knees to his chest. He wrapped his arms around them and ran a trembling hand over his face in a vague attempt to calm himself. He couldn’t seem to slow his breathing.

It wasn’t often that he thought of the crushing weight of his responsibilities as protector of Amity Park, and when he did, he didn’t think too deeply. He loved his town and the people in it, but sometimes he wondered if….

No. He couldn’t fall into the trap of thinking that way.

The halfa clenched his fist and his eyes lit the dark room with an eerie glow. He would keep fighting. He would keep protecting the most important things in his life. Nothing was more important than that.

Xxx

Danny didn’t stay away for long. He managed to regain his composure within half an hour and he headed back down the stairs in order to apologize. When he returned to the kitchen (which was now back to normal), he saw that only Snape and the older couple from before had stayed despite the awkward silence between them. Snape seemed to be doing his best impression of a gargoyle as he sat stiffly in a chair across from the kind-looking man and his wife who turned with relief flashing across their faces when he entered.

“So good of you to join us again, Mr. Fenton. I trust you’ve gained control of yourself after your childish outburst?”

“Severus!” The plump woman scolded, but Danny didn’t react to the barb. Instead, he collapsed in the chair next to the dour Potions Professor with a sheepish expression.

“Yeah, I came back down to say I’m sorry for the way I acted. That could have been… handled better.”

“Indeed. The Headmaster had pressing matters to attend to and so he instructed me to stay and inform you that you may be called upon for some tasks that may require your particular… expertise. This may include reconnaissance missions, information-gathering, and rescue missions. You have strict instructions to follow any order you receive from the mission leader instantly and fully; including orders to retreat or stand by. Do you understand?”

Danny blinked as he processed the quick words but nodded firmly. Snape’s eyes glittered as they examined him thoroughly as if evaluating his worth. “Good,” was all he said. Danny turned his attention to the couple across the table; the man with thinning red hair was watching them interact with surprise and the woman had an expression of disapproval mixed with satisfaction.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ve met you before,” Danny said politely. The man chuckled sheepishly.

“Of course, how rude of us. My name is Arthur Weasley and this is my wife, Molly. We have seven children—our only girl is a year younger than you and our youngest boy is your age—and we wanted to let you know that when Sirius’ godson, Harry Potter, arrives in a couple of days quite a few of our children may come to visit him. The house can become quite crowded….”

“Oh, but I’m sure the children would love to get to know you, dear,” the motherly woman broke in. “You will make so many good friends while you’re here. And if you ever feel homesick, I want you to know that you can always come for a visit and a spot of tea.”

“Er, thanks—” Danny began uncertainly, but before he could complete the sentence the familiar sound of rushing flames and displaced air erupted from behind him. Snape growled in annoyance beside him and the Weasley’s gasped in astonishment when Fawkes perched on the back of Danny’s chair and trilled a greeting.

“Aw man!” Danny cried in frustration. “This is the second time today, you flaming peacock!” Fawkes didn’t deign to respond, instead making a contented humming sound in its throat as it began running its beak through Danny’s wild hair. However, the phoenix squawked indignantly (right next to his ear) when it discovered the previously established occupant of Danny’s hair.

The orange-eyed doxy—Fuzzy—chattered angrily at the intruding phoenix and Danny swiftly plucked the small creature off of his head before Fawkes made lunch meat out of it. Fawkes huffed out a tiny plume of flame as if to say “So there!” before it resumed its grooming.

The room was silent.

“Don’t say a word,” Danny warned Snape, whose black eyes were glittering with mocking amusement. “It’s not _my_ fault that all of your magical creatures are obsessed with my hair. I certainly don’t know of any ghost animals that act this way.”

“Perhaps they are attempting to tell you something. Tell me, Mr. Fenton, how often do you shower?” With a mock pout, Danny opened his mouth, but before he could say anything Sirius breezed into the room.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, Snivillus. If that were the case, Fawkes wouldn’t dare leave your side.” Snape’s lips thinned even more and his glowered blackly at the other man while Danny simply gaped in astonishment. He had heard Sirius talking about Snape before, sure, but he had never expected for him to take such a cheap shot in public to the man’s face.

“Er…” Danny cast about nervously, trying to come up with something to say to diffuse the rapidly deteriorating situation.

“Why don’t you go back to your room and finish licking yourself, you worthless reprobate,” Snape snarled, abruptly standing from his seat. “I believe my purpose here is complete. Remember what I said, Mr. Fenton, and be sure you recognize just how dangerous and important your task is, unless you wish to become a full ghost, that is.”

With that, he swept from the room with an impressive billow of his black cloak.

_Xxxx_

The next few days were some of the busiest that Danny had seen at Grimmauld Place. Members of the Order of the Phoenix were moving constantly in and out of the house, holding meetings and discussing plans for retrieving Harry Potter—Sirius’ godson—from his relative’s home in another part of England. From what Danny had managed to gather from the various brief explanations, Harry Potter was the only person to have ever survived the Killing Curse without the benefit of being half-dead to begin with. While this had banished Voldemort, it had not killed him and Harry was sent to his only living relatives who were apparently less-than-ideal guardians.

Danny felt that he might relate to the other teen pretty well considering their backgrounds in fighting evil and being constantly hunted for it. They were similar, too, in their irrepressible sense of right and wrong; their heroic tendencies that landed them in deep trouble more often than not. Tonks had even mentioned that they had a more than passing resemblance.

To the halfa’s surprise and relief, Dumbledore actually assigned him to be part of the “Guard” who would bring the teen to Grimmauld Place. Of course, he recognized that it was only a trial run of sorts; with the amount of wizards that were also part of the Guard, they were simply seeing how he would react during a controlled mission before they gave him any _real_ responsibilities.

And so it was that on the night of July 30th, ten minutes before midnight, Danny found himself standing in a circle between Lupin and Tonks (her hair now a dark purple to reduce the chance of it attracting attention). The other five wizards in their group held onto the rolled-up Muggle newspaper and glanced at their watches, waiting for the Portkey to activate.

Nervousness coiled tightly in his stomach, but Danny forced himself to remain calm despite the unmistakable feeling that something was going to happen. He met Moody’s eyes from across the circle and the scarred man gave him a grim look as if acknowledging the feeling in the air. Danny felt a jolt of anxiety but the next second the unwelcome jerk around his navel whisked them away into the unknown.

It was only through sheer force of will that Danny didn’t crumple to the ground when they landed, but he did stagger into Lupin, who steadied him before pulling out his wand and looking around the darkened house they had entered. The living room they were in was spotless, everything from the tacky floral pattern on the couches perfectly matching the drapes to the pictures that lined the walls practically screeched “normalcy”, which Danny found surprising considering the wizarding homes he had seen so far.

“His bedroom is upstairs,” Lupin whispered to the others and Moody directed the werewolf and the Metamorphmagus to go up and get him. Danny was directed to wait at the foot of the stairs and he did so, his body tense and alert. Across from him on the wall of the hallway leading to the kitchen, he saw another picture of the family that lived here; a thin, horse-like woman with pinched lips, a fat man with a walrus mustache, and his mirror image in the chubby, blonde-haired boy with mean eyes. There was no one in the picture that resembled him the way that Tonks had said.

Danny was suddenly distracted by the sound of footsteps on the stairs and he turned to see Lupin returning with a black-haired teen behind him and Tonks bringing up the rear. The other boy murmured something to Lupin, who nodded and directed Tonks to the small cupboard door under the stairs. Then the boy looked up and caught sight of Danny.

“Oh! Er… hello.” The teen said cautiously, his deep emerald green eyes sweeping over Danny in a way that the halfa recognized. Danny himself sized up the other boy as well, taking in the messy black hair, the round glasses that looked like they had seen more than enough wear, the thin wiry body shrouded in huge, worn clothing, and moreover the sharpness and bone-deep determination in Harry Potter’s gaze.

“Hey,” Danny replied in the same manner.

“Time for introductions later,” Moody grunted abruptly from behind Danny and the halfa snapped out of his contemplation and nodded. Tonks rejoined them, floating a battered trunk behind her, and the other members of the Guard gathered as well, most greeting Harry with a whisper.

“Where’s Sparrow?” Moody said, using the code name he had insisted everyone have in case of them being overheard. “Sparrow” was the code name of a rather unobtrusive man named Sturgis Podmore.

“He was guarding the back,” someone said. “I thought he was right behind me.” Moody cursed and the warning bells that had been dinging softly in the back of Danny’s mind suddenly changed to a wild clamor.

“Something’s coming.” He said, earning a couple of strange looks from people who hadn’t met him. Moody, Lupin, and Tonks seemed to agree with him; their expressions were grim as they drew closer to discuss their next move.

“There are anti-apparition wards on the house; we have to get beyond them to get out of here. Falcon and Cauldron, go find Sparrow and guard the rear. Jinx, come with me to guard the front. Mooney, guard Potter and get him out of here first, no matter what. We’ll follow. Phantom,” he turned to Danny, “you’re with them. Guard Potter by any means necessary.”

Danny nodded at once, understanding that he would use his powers if it became necessary. Harry gave him another piercing, searching look that he returned with an ambiguous shrug. Suddenly, the front window blasted open with the force of a small explosion, glass showering the inside of the room and a ball of flame setting the hideous couch on fire. A high-pitched scream came from upstairs.

“Now! Get Potter out now!” Moody roared. Before he could blink, Danny was being herded through the narrow hallway and through the kitchen to the back door. Lupin peered through the thin lace curtains and, seeing nothing, opened the door and slipped through. The two teens followed, their senses alert for sounds of conflict.

They were halfway across the immaculately-trimmed lawn before there was a shout and nearly half a dozen colored bolts of light were streaking towards them. Lupin shouted something and a great silver dome encompassed them just before the curses impacted with a sound like a gong, making Danny’s ears hurt with the reverberations. The powerful shield protected them but it was apparent that it cost Lupin much of his energy for it flickered and disappeared quickly. Dark cloaked figures emerged from the darkness.

“Go! Run for it, Harry!” Lupin shouted, darting to the side to avoid a sickly yellow light.

“No, I’m going to help, Remus!” The boy next to Danny shouted back, pulling out his own wand and shouting a curse at the oncoming Death Eaters. One of them went down, but that only brought the attention to the two vulnerable teens.

“You’re not ready yet, Harry! You have to leave now!” Lupin didn’t move fast enough to dodge a purple curse and he grunted in pain as his left arm was slashed open, blood pouring steadily from the wound. He gritted his teeth and ignored it. “Phantom! Take him, now!”

Danny hesitated, torn between his obviously important orders and helping his new friends, but as he saw more spells headed their way and another Order member joining Lupin in the fray behind the house, he made his decision.

“We’ve got to go! They can handle this; you need to get back to Headquarters!” He said urgently, but Harry merely gave him an angry glance and ignored him in favor of sending more curses at the Death Eaters. Danny barely managed to dodge a red bolt as it grazed past him and he scowled. “Come on!” He shouted, but was ignored once more.

“Oh, for the love of— _watch out_!” The deadly green light of the Killing Curse was unmistakable as it barreled toward Harry and Danny tackled the other teen to the ground as it whizzed over their heads. Danny pinned Harry to the ground when he made to get up. “No, we don’t have time for this! We have to leave _now_! The only reason that they’re still here is because they’re waiting for you to leave! Once we get out of here, they’ll follow, so get your stupid butt up and _move_!”

Without waiting for a response, he hauled the young wizard up and started sprinting for the edge of the lawn and freedom beyond the wards. By skirting quickly around the edge of a tall hedge, the tingling feeling that shivered through their bodies indicated that they had made it past the wards but before Danny could speak, three more Death Eaters across the street caught sight of them and began throwing curses.

“Hurry, this way!” Harry said, grabbing Danny’s hand and darting forward and to the left, ducking into a small pathway between two houses down the street. This was far enough away that they could escape; unfortunately, Danny didn’t know if he could teleport to Grimmauld Place since he had no idea how far away he currently was. When they approached a little nook in the side, Danny yanked on Harry’s hand and pushed him into it, slipping in after him and pressing him against the wall, their panting breaths mingling.

“Okay, this is far enough. Do you know how to tele—I mean, apparate? Can you apparate us to Headquarters?”

Harry gave him an incredulous look bordering on a glare. “Are you mad? I’m not going anywhere with you! I don’t even know your name or what you’re doing here! And we left Remus behind—he was hurt badly and we have to go back to him!”

Danny huffed out a breath in frustration. Before he could say anything, however, he heard rushing footsteps heading their way. Harry’s eyes widened and he raised his wand, but Danny put a hand on his forearm to lower the weapon. Pressing closer to the slender teen next to him, he whispered in his ear, “Don’t move and don’t say a word. They won’t know we’re here.”

He barely waited for Harry’s nod before he extended his power and enveloped them both in invisibility just as a lone Death Eater ran past without looking their way. Danny held the invisibility for a minute or two after the man had gone, his breath coming in pants and sweat beading his brow at the effort. It was too dangerous to risk gaining attention by transforming completely, so he had to force his ghost powers into use as a human.

When he finally released the invisibility with a gasp, Harry was staring at him in awe and curiosity.

“What did you do? Who are you?”

But just at that moment, a terrible, blood-curdling scream of pain rose above the continued sounds of battle just a couple houses over. Harry’s face drained of color.

“Remus.” He whispered. Before Danny could so much as blink, Harry had sprinted past him and back into the street. Danny cursed and followed, dodging any stray curses that came their way. It looked as if Lupin had tried to follow them; he was outside of the wards, but clearly caught in a curse that was making him writhe and scream in pain on the asphalt.

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” Harry bellowed as he ran, surprising the cackling woman who was holding the curse. The thin piece of wood soared through the air and Harry caught it deftly, wasting no time in snapping it unceremoniously. The woman gave a mad screech of rage and the Death Eaters around her began throwing spells in earnest.

Throwing caution to the winds, Danny threw out a hand and conjured an ectoplasmic shield around Harry, who was standing protectively over Lupin. Spells impacted the shield and ricocheted wildly into the Death Eater ranks, dropping several and causing screams and chaos all around. In the confusion, Danny lunged forward and grabbed a hold of the back of Harry’s shirt and Lupin’s arm before concentrating and teleporting them out of there in a flash of green lightning.

With the energy available to him in his human form, Danny was only able to go as far as the little nook they had been in before, but that was enough as long as they could get out of there. The other teen gaped around him in astonishment, no doubt wondering how they had managed to get here so fast, but he was soon distracted by the groaning werewolf on the ground.

“We have to get out of here _now_ ,” Danny growled. “You have to apparate us to Headquarters.”

“I’ve never done a side-along apparition with more than one person,” Harry protested, “I’ll have to make two trips.” Danny groaned. That wouldn’t do.

“You’re not supposed to come back here. Take Lupin and send someone back for me, hurry!” Harry gave him a doubtful look and lingered.

“Are you sure?”

“ _Yes_ , now get going, it’s too dangerous here.” Finally, the green-eyed boy nodded and took hold of Lupin’s arm before turning in place and vanishing with a “pop”. Despite his exhaustion, Danny dredged up more power and sidled into the nearby building, keeping an eye out for the person that Harry would send back for him. He didn’t have to wait long.

With another, even softer, “pop”, there was a tall, thin man with sallow skin standing where Harry had just left and Danny let out a breath of relief. He stepped out of the building and regained visibility. Snape whirled when he sensed the presence behind him and barely stopped himself from cursing the halfa.

“Let’s go,” he said shortly, reaching out to grab Danny’s wrist and, without waiting for a response, he turned on the spot. A horrible squeezing sensation later, they were standing outside of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. It was only when they were safely inside that Snape let go of Danny’s wrist and spoke.

“I suppose it was too much to ask that anything involving Potter would not turn out to be an utter fiasco. Before you ask, no one was killed, though it is likely that Podmore will be bedridden for several days.”

“Good,” Danny sighed in relief, closing his eyes to rub at his temples. He felt exhausted, the adrenaline from the past hour leaving him drained physically and emotionally. He opened his eyes when he heard the sound of a cork being removed from a vial. Snape was offering him some kind of potion, his face smooth and unreadable despite the strange emotion in his black eyes.

“A healing potion.” He grunted.

“Thanks,” the halfa said, taking the vial and drinking it down immediately. He made a face at the taste and shivered as it spread quickly through his body, leaving him feeling energized.

“It seems as though you were not exaggerating when you said that you had been part of a war already. You handled the situation quite… admirably for someone your age.” Snape said carefully, being sure to keep his voice emotionless. “You are not… unduly harmed, I suppose?”

“I’m fine, Mr. Snape. Stop fussing,” Danny said with a small smile. Snape scowled.

“I do not _fuss_ , Mr. Fenton, I _inquire_. I suggest you learn the difference before I feed you something less beneficial than a simple healing potion. And it’s _‘Professor’_ to you. I am a professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and you will address me as such. I do not suffer through years of teaching incompetent brats for that title to be forgotten.”

“Yes, _professor_ ,” Danny rolled his eyes. An excited chatter distracted Danny and he looked down to see the three doxies he had befriended scurrying toward him across the hardwood floor. With a broad smile, he knelt down and picked the purple-eyed one up and cuddled it in his hand while another one climbed up his pant leg. Fuzzy made use of his wings to buzz up to the Danny’s head and ensconce himself in the halfa’s bangs with a welcoming pat on his forehead.

Snape watched the strange reunion with a bemused expression. “Consorting with household pests again, Mr. Fenton? It’s a wonder you haven’t gathered an entire menagerie on your person yet.”

“The night is still young.” Danny chuckled and stood up, swaying slightly as blood rushed to his head. Snape took a step forward and steadied him with a hand without even realizing it.

“I’m afraid I would have to disagree with you. I suggest that you retire for the night; healing potions will heal minor injuries, but the energy they give you is only fleeting.”

“But—”

“No buts, Mr. Fenton. There is an Order meeting scheduled for tomorrow morning where you will give your report, but until then you are instructed to rest and regain your strength.”

“Well, I guess when you put it that way….” Danny sighed. “Thanks again, Mr.—Professor Snape.”

“I did nothing that warranted your gratitude, you silly child, so run along and leave me in peace.” The Potion’s Master grumped and Danny shook his head, smiling before he followed the man’s advice.

_Xxxxx_

Danny stumbled groggily down the stairs the next morning, running a hand through his hair and rubbing his face with the other. He had been woken by Lupin only ten minutes before and he was running late to the Order meeting.

He paused mid-yawn at the bottom of the stairs as he caught a glimpse in one of the sitting rooms. Harry was there, along with a bushy-haired girl and two red-headed kids who were unmistakably related. They were sitting huddled close to each other, but they turned as one when they heard his bare footsteps. Harry stood and the rest followed, glancing in between the two raven-haired teens as if noting the similarities between them.

“Uh, I don’t think we were properly introduced last night,” Harry said cautiously. “I’m Harry Potter, and these are my best friends Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Ginny Weasley.”

Danny nodded at each of them in turn with a faint smile. “I’m Danny Fenton. Sorry about the whole grab-and-run thing; you were in danger and I had my orders.”

“Your orders? You can’t be any older than us!” Ron exclaimed. Danny shrugged.

“I’m the same age that you are, I think, but there are… special circumstances. I should really get going; by the way, aren’t you supposed to go to the meeting, too?”

“No, Professor Dumbledore talked to me last night,” Harry responded.

“I don’t know if you can get in,” the brown-haired girl—Hermione—put in. “They’ve warded the door already.”

“They know that won’t stop me. I’ll talk to you guys later.” With a little wave, he turned and walked to the kitchen door, phasing through it as if it wasn’t even there. He emerged on the other side in the middle of Lupin’s report and, still uncomfortable with the group of strangers, he settled in his regular spot next to Snape in the corner.

“So good of you to join us at last, Mr. Fenton.” Snape sneered.

“Aw, you missed me? How sweet!” Danny quipped. Snape scowled, but at that moment Dumbledore spoke.

“Ah, it seems that Mr. Fenton has joined us. Danny, if you wouldn’t mind telling us your view of last night’s events?” Danny stepped forward and gave a short account of his role in the attack the night before. When he finished, several of the members were looking at him with a new respect and he stepped back into place feeling a slight satisfaction. Snape was called up next.

“Unfortunately, I was not personally informed of the attack, although we have come to expect it in the past several years,” Snape said softly, but his silky smooth voice was the only sound in the room. “It seems to me that this attack was not planned with the Dark Lord’s full attention; it was too haphazard and sloppy for that. It was almost as if the Dark Lord didn’t expect to capture Potter. At the meeting last night, he was distracted and impatient—though he did curse Bellatrix for letting Potter snap her wand.

“The Dark Lord is planning something and I suspect that it somehow involves Mr. Fenton here. However, it seems that only the Dark Lord himself knows the full extent of that plan.”

After the meeting ended, Danny managed to catch Snape in the hallway before he left through the front door.

“Mr. Snape—”

“ _Professor_ Snape, Mr. Fenton.”

“ _Professor_ Snape, then. Are there ghosts at Voldemort’s hideout?”

That managed to stop the spy in his tracks. “What in the name of Merlin are you going on about, boy?”

“Ghosts. You know, people with blue skin who float around and walk through walls and such? Are there any at Voldemort’s hideout?”

“ _Stop saying his name!_ And _yes_ , there are ghosts there. They do not interfere with our dealings except to deliver messages on occasion, though they are loyal to the Dark Lord. What is the meaning of this ridiculous interrogation?”

“Just a thought. It sounds like they are the same level as the Hogwart’s ghosts, which is strange. Why do these weak ghosts stay here among wizards? Where are all of the more powerful ghosts?”

“I believe they are banished to the realm of the dead before they can gain a hold on this world, though it is not known how that is done. That information has been lost along with that of the Veil. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Fenton, I have business to attend to.”

“Yeah, okay,” Danny said distractedly. “Thanks, Professor; I’ll see you later.”

“Yes, unfortunately.” Snape muttered darkly and left in a whirl of black robes. Danny stood for a second, contemplating the idea forming in his mind.

“Bloody hell, do you actually _talk_ to that git?”

Danny jumped and turned, seeing Harry and his friends watching him from the doorway to the sitting room. Hermione scolded Ron under her breath, Harry just looked at him closely as if trying to figure him out, and Ginny looked just as incredulous as her brother. Danny shrugged.

“Sure, he’s an alright guy. Just a little prickly.”

Ron sputtered. “J-just a little—!”

“Danny, are you from America? You don’t sound British.” Hermione broke in, elbowing Ron in the ribs.

“Yeah, I am, but—”

“Oh, that’s ever so interesting! I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone from America. I know all about it, of course, and I think that it’s so interesting how you all came about. Why are you here in England? Or in Grimmauld Place, for that matter? Are you part of the Order? How were you able to get into the meeting? Are you going to go to Hogwarts this coming term? It’s our last year, you know, and I’m ever so sad to leave even though I imagine that we will be so busy preparing for N.E.W.T.’s that we will be quite relieved to leave by the end of the year.”

Danny gaped at the girl in astonishment, amazed that she had managed to say so many words so quickly without taking a breath. “Um…” Was all he could get out.

“Don’t worry about her; she’ll calm down once she gets to know you,” Harry said, smiling for the first time since Danny had met him. They led him back to the sitting room and they all sat down comfortably. Danny suspected that Harry had already told them everything that had happened the night before—including his powers—and they might have even asked Dumbledore about it already. They glanced at each other before Hermione took up the questioning.

“So, Danny, tell us about yourself.”

Danny hesitated uncomfortably. The quartet reminded him of the tight group that he, Sam, and Tucker had. They didn’t have any secrets between each other, and from what Danny understood, Harry was an important figure in the upcoming war; which meant that it might not be a bad idea for him to know the truth about Danny. It unnerved him deeply to tell his deepest secret to so many strangers, but a small part of him was relieved to let it out after so many years of secrecy and deceit.

“Well, I grew up in Amity Park, the most haunted town in America. I have two best friends; Tucker Foley and Samantha Mansen. I have an older sister who is an amateur psychologist. My parents are scientists that invent paranormal weapons and use them to hunt the evil ghosts that invade the city from the ghost portal in the basement. Also, I’m a halfa—a half-ghost, half-human hybrid—because of an accident in my parent’s lab nearly three years ago and I also fight ghosts in my spare time.”

This announcement garnered the reaction that he pretty much expected. All four teens looked at him as if he had sprouted another head and started doing a jig. Hermione frowned.

“It’s impossible to be half-human and half-ghost—you can’t be both alive and dead at the same time.”

“Well, I guess someone should have told me that before I went and did it, huh?” Hermione didn’t look pleased at this and Ron’s ears started turning red with anger. Danny sighed, giving up on being flippant. They obviously couldn’t take a joke very well. He held up a hand and let a green coil of ectoplasm pool in his palm, his eyes turning luminous neon green. Harry was the only one that remained unaffected; his friends gasped and jerked back in surprise.

“Look,” Danny said softly. “This is called ectoplasm; it’s the material that holds ghosts together and gives them their powers. During the accident, my very DNA was infused with it and I was changed into a halfa. It’s only happened once before and the only other hybrid is after my family, so it’s very reasonable that you wouldn’t believe me. But it’s true. Here, I’ll let you touch it; normally, it would be painful for you, but I’ll neutralize it. It’s completely harmless, I promise.”

He held out his hand and waited. After a minute, Hermione’s face hardened in determination and she reached out a trembling hand. She gasped as Danny held her hand gently, the ectoplasm oozing onto her skin and tingling slightly. Her eyes widened in awe and curiosity, her fear vanishing.

“Amazing! I’ve never felt anything like it before. This doesn’t feel anything like the ghosts at Hogwarts; it just feels like freezing cold air when you pass through them.” Danny released her hand and extinguished the ectoplasm. She looked at her unmarked hand in wonder.

“Ghost hunters have developed a power level system for ghosts that range from one to ten. Your average ghost here in England—like the Hogwarts ghosts—is about a 1.1 or 1.3. They have very little ectoplasm and so you don’t really notice it. The ghosts that I meet back at home are, on average, between 3 and 4, which means they can affect their physical surroundings and have additional powers besides the basic flight, intangibility, and invisibility. They’re very dangerous to humans.”

“But not to you?” Ginny asked, looking interested and vaguely disturbed.

Danny shrugged. “Well, I’m not fully human, am I? But since I _am_ half-human, they can still hurt me quite a bit if I let them.”

“So what are you doing here?” Harry asked finally. All four teens looked like they were slowly accepting the idea, no doubt helped by the fact that they were wizards and surrounded by impossible things every day. Even Ron was looking interested at his response.

“I was on vacation with my family when we stumbled on a Death Eater meeting in a graveyard. I had to use some of my powers to get out of that mess and Voldemort decided he was interested in me. I’ve been here ever since, trying to help out with the war so I can go home and protect my city.”

“That was you?” Harry suddenly gasped, his face paling. His friends looked at him in concern and alarm. “I wondered—but there was no way of making sure…. I thought for sure you were dead by now!” Danny felt his heart skip a beat in fear.

“What are you talking about?”

“I see visions in Voldemort’s mind sometimes,” Harry explained shakily. “It’s because of the connection I’ve had with him ever since he gave me this scar when I was a baby.” He pointed at his forehead and Danny could see the raised skin in the shape of a lightning bolt. “One night, last week, he was throwing a tantrum because of a boy who had escaped him using some strange power. He ordered for your capture; I thought for sure that he had caught you by now. People don’t usually live very long once Voldemort decides to find them.”

The expression in his eyes was particularly haunted at this point and Danny felt a sudden kinship with the other teen. He understood what it was like to be forced to deal with things that had been forced upon him through unnatural means. Suddenly, something that had been niggling at the back of his mind suddenly became clear and he blinked in surprise, looking at the scar on Harry’s forehead more closely.

“That’s what it is!” He exclaimed. Harry looked at him confusedly. “This is the first time I’ve been alone with you, so it’s not surprising that I didn’t notice it before. I can sense Dark magic—it’s sort of the same way that I sense other ghosts—but the imprint on your scar is so faint that I guess I didn’t recognize it for what it was until now. Professor Snape’s is much stronger; I can feel his Dark Mark from a mile away, and the Dark objects in this house can get really annoying.”

“Can you really? That’s fascinating!” Hermione exclaimed eagerly. “And ever so helpful! Can you imagine being able to sense that nasty rat Pettigrew even when he’s in his Animagus form?” The teen’s expressions immediately transformed into scowls and Danny quirked an eyebrow.

“Um, I think I’ll need to hear the story behind that one. But can I hear it over breakfast? I’m starving!” Harry and Ron agreed eagerly and they went to the kitchen, Ginny and Hermione bringing up the rear with a shared look that seemed to say, “Are all boys the same?”

_Xxxx_

After he had been given a short account of the Trio’s adventures, Danny had to admit that they rivaled his own in danger and excitement.

“The difference with you guys is that you actually managed to keep your grades up during the whole thing,” he admitted ruefully. “I could hardly concentrate on learning the derivative of a function if there was a ghost popping up every five minutes. My teachers thought I was a delinquent.”

“So, in your human form, you were labeled a loser and a troublemaker and your alter ego was named ‘Public Enemy #1’? How on earth do you deal with that?” Hermione asked.

“More importantly, _why_?” Ginny added. Danny shrugged.

“I love my city; it’s my home, even if the people living there aren’t the brightest. I would die—completely, I mean—if it meant I could protect them. It’s just the right thing to do, so I do it. It helps that there are people who know me and love me for who and what I am. They support me no matter what I’m going through.”

Hermione and Ron were nodding as though they understood completely and Harry was looking at him with something like amazement. Again, Danny felt that strange connection between them. What did it mean?

Suddenly, there were two resounding _CRACKS_ that filled the air and two redheaded boys—twins—appeared in two seats at the end of the table. Before he even registered what he was doing, Danny was up and shooting ectoplasmic blasts, his hands blazing with green flames. Only the twin’s quick reflexes saved them from some severe burns; as it was, the ends of their hair were singed and smoking. There were twin blast marks on the wall behind them.

“Bloody—”

“—hell!”

“Fred, George! Are you mad?” Ginny exclaimed, the freckles on her skin standing out on her suddenly pale face. “You nearly got your fool heads blown off because of that stupid joke of yours!”

Danny cursed under his breath, his heart racing madly in his chest as he tried to calm down. He had very nearly hospitalized some innocent pranksters; relatives of Ron and Ginny, if he guessed right. He clenched his fists, violently extinguishing the ectoplasm gathered there, and closed his eyes until he felt that he had some control over himself. A hand touched his shoulder hesitantly and he opened his eyes to see Harry’s concerned expression.

“Hey, don’t worry about it; they’re fine. It’s not your fault the twins aren’t bright enough to come up with new jokes.” Harry gave him a smile and Danny gave a weak one in return.

“Not bright enough, he says?” One twin exclaimed, seemingly hurt.

“No new jokes, he says?” The other cried.

“We take supreme offense at that, sir!”

“However, because of the generosity of our hearts—”

“—and our wallets—”

“—we will ignore this slander in favor of inquiring—”

“—who nearly sent us to join the Headless Hunt.” The twins stopped speaking and looked at him expectantly. Danny smirked dangerously.

“I’m Danny Fenton. Sorry about the whole nearly-blew-your-heads-off thing, but now you know what happens when I’m taken by surprise. Consider it a life lesson.” He let his eyes flash to a glowing green and the twins glanced at each other with a gulp.

“Right-o, we weren’t planning on hanging about here anyway.” One said hastily.

“Mum says that she’s picking you lot up tomorrow morning,” said the other.

“End of message.”

“We’ll just get out of your hair….”

“Ta!” They said simultaneously before vanishing with another _CRACK!_ By now all of the teens were doubled over in laughter and they only had to look at the twin scars on the wall to start laughing once more.

_Xxxx_

Danny stared at the ceiling above the dusty couch in the abandoned, doxy-infested room on the second floor, one arm tucked comfortably behind his head and the other fiddling with the medallion on his chest. The three doxies cuddled next to his side, purring and chittering softly. He missed his friends. He worried about his family. He had been in England without them for over a week and this wizarding war had no quick end in sight. According to Harry, it had already been going on for two years and Voldemort’s first rise had lasted decades.

There was no way that Danny was going to stay here for that long. He lifted the medallion off his chest and stared at it, turning it over and watching the dim light flash over the metal surface.

“Why would Clockwork give this to me, anyway? It’s not like I can go back and kill Voldemort before he went evil.”

“That’s true,” a soft voice came from the doorway and Danny dropped his arm, turning his head to see the Boy Who Lived standing in the doorway, his worn, ill-fitting clothes replaced with a new set he kept at Grimmauld Place for the summer. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” Danny replied, sitting up to make room for the other teen. With a quick glance at the poisonous creatures that crawled into Danny’s lap, Harry sat next to the halfa. The two had hit it off over the past couple of days, whether it was because of the similarities between them or that they were the same age, Danny couldn’t say. “What do you mean? What’s true?”

“You can’t go back and kill Voldemort before he went evil. He killed his own father and grandparents when he was sixteen. He’s been evil since before he went to Hogwarts.”

“Besides, killing him would probably cause a major rift in time,” Danny added thoughtfully.

Harry gave him a cautious look. “Er, we _are_ talking hypothetically, right?”

“Maybe.” Danny shrugged. Harry reached over and grasped the medallion lying on Danny’s chest, holding it up to the light curiously.

“What does this do, anyway? You were looking at it earlier.”

He looked up, a blush blooming across his cheeks when he realized that his action had forced Danny to lean close to him in order to avoid cutting off his circulation. For a timeless moment they stared into each other’s eyes, only inches away. Before the halfa could respond, a silky voice interrupted them.

“My my, isn’t this a touching scene? I can already hear the wails of prepubescent females when they discover that the desires of the Boy Who Lived run in a decidedly crooked manner.” Harry dropped the medallion as if burned and he jerked away to glare heatedly at the Potions Master. Danny just grimaced and rolled his eyes, though he was blushing as well.

He stood up as smoothly as possible and stretched slightly, wincing at a tight muscle in his back. He had been sent on a stake-out the other night to gather information and had ended up crouching in one place for several hours straight. It had severely tested his limited patience—he had never had much of it when he was younger—but he had made it through the night, though he hadn’t gained anything except stiff muscles.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re hilarious, Professor. I can see why the children simply _adore_ you.” the halfa said sarcastically, earning him a light cuff on the back of the head when he approached the older man. Since there was no ire in the man’s expression—only a faint scowl—Danny would have almost said it was affectionate if he wasn’t talking about Severus Snape. “So, is there a reason you came up here or did you run out of people to insult downstairs?”

“I assure you, Mr. Fenton, the list of these people’s faults would take me days to recount if I chose to waste my time in such a manner,” Snape sneered with a pointed glance over Danny’s shoulder at Harry. “However, at this time I am simply informing you of a meeting you must attend with Headmaster Dumbledore tonight after dinner. I would be… prepared.” He added with a significant glance. Danny nodded.

“Okay, thanks.”

The Potion’s Master merely nodded once in reply and swept from the room without another word. Danny sighed, stepped back to the couch, and fell back onto it with a small grin. Harry returned it.

“He may be a miserable old git, but he’s one of the bravest men I know,” the Boy Who Lived commented ruefully. “But don’t tell Ron or Ginny that; they would think I’ve been hexed.”

Danny chuckled. “Yeah, he may be hard to read or get close to, but I’ve met worse. He cares a lot more than we know and he shows it through his actions, no matter what his words say.”

Harry shook his head wonderingly. “Well, if he’s got a good side, I’d say that you’re definitely on it. He didn’t even hex you or shout at you when you talked back to him earlier.” Danny just shrugged, not really sure how to respond. When he had first met Snape, the dark man had reminded him of the ghosts he bantered with back in Amity Park and from then on the playful banter had just come out naturally.

          A comfortable silence fell for a while. Then Harry shifted in his seat and glanced at the medallion resting on Danny’s chest before moving his eyes back up to Danny’s bright blue eyes. A faint blush rose in his cheeks.

          “So, er… you never said what that necklace does.”

           Danny blinked. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure what it can do. I got it from an old friend in the Ghost Zone and it has the power to send you through time. Only I can use it, though.”

           The other teen looked interested. “Really? So it’s sort of like a Time Turner, then? In the Wizarding World, they’re worn around the neck on a chain like that, except that it’s shaped like an hourglass that you turn a certain amount of times in order to go back in time. They’re very rare.”

            “Yeah, I guess it’s sort of similar.” Danny shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll end up using it eventually.”

            “What I wouldn’t give to have had one a year ago. My… well, you’ve met Sirius, my godfather. He fell through a portal during a battle last year and I thought he had died. He was pulled out only six months later, but it was the longest six months of my life.”

            “I know what that’s like,” Danny said, thinking of the time after the war in the Ghost Zone, when he had had nightmares about the friends he had lost in that battle. “I need to visit this Veil some time and see where it leads in the Ghost Zone. That way I can come back and visit you guys anytime I want to and I don’t have to pay for a plane ticket.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I am fully aware that the Schrodinger's Theory as described in the fic is completely inaccurate, but I was young and didn't understand the concept of Googling when I wrote this, apparently.  
> Liked my writing? You might like my Tumblr. rosyourboat.tumblr.com


End file.
